Dealing With the Past
by Digitalis02
Summary: Lindsay and Danny's relationship has turned rocky after 4x12, but before they can deal with it, Lindsay must deal with the return of her past once more, while the team experiences trouble of their own. Spoilers for Child's Play.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello! While not new to the world of fanfiction writing, this is my humble first attempt at CSI:NY. So, please, be gentle people.** SPOILERS FOR Child's Play!!!** While I read some spoilers about the upcoming eps, they were vague, so some facts will not be right. Essentially, I am taking the spoilers I did read and attempting to incorporate it into the storyline. I didn't read anything pertaining to story-lines dealing with Mac, Stella, etc. so anything to do with them is fair game. Also, in my story, Danny and Lindsay are keeping their relationship low-key, meaning the rest of the team don't know they're dating, but suspect anyway.

Alright! On with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did, I would get Lindsay a better wardrobe. And give Hawkes more air-time.

Sighing, Lindsay ran a hand through her hair as she sat at her desk shuffling through paperwork. No new cases had come in which was surprising; it being New York and all and so she was stuck, confined to a small office, trapped under loads of reports, threatening to drown her for the past three hours. She would have wished for a murder, a burglary, a break-in, anything, except she didn't really want that to happen.

Besides, another crime meant more paperwork. Lindsay suppressed another sigh.

On top of that, her eye caught the other vacant desk in the office, Danny had been absent for a while. Not in the lab, oh no, other than that day he took off, he was back at the job, doing what he did best. No, he was just absent from her life...and she had no idea what to do about it. Still, she had to try, eying a yellow post-it note.

She leaned back in her chair and thought about the past few days. Life truly was a roller-coaster. Everything had been going so well and then tragedy struck. It happened every so often, a case or event that hit one of team in their knees, bringing them, and the rest of the team, down. Like a 2x4 dealing repeated blows. Lindsay fiddled with a pen. It happened to all of them. Mac, Stella, Danny, Flack, even Hawkes, one of the most sweetest men she'd ever known. And it took them weeks to get back up.

Only for it to happen again.

Life sucked.

God, her thoughts were depressing her even further than paperwork ever could.

Pushing back her chair and checking the time, Lindsay decided a change of scenery, and another cup of coffee, would do wonders. Her heels clicked softly on the floor as she moved and a smile flitted across her lips as her brown eyes caught sight of Adam and that new tech, Kendall, working side-by-side on something in one of the labs. Those two were so funny. And Lindsay was privately happy to see Adam show an interest in someone; he deserved it. Not only because of what he'd been through, but because he was a genuinely nice person. The next person she spotted caused her smile to disappear. Danny's sculpted back, despite his loose-fitting shirt was easily discernible to her, and to most of the female staff, Lindsay thought wryly. He was moving quickly, file folder in hand, down the stairs.

Watching him disappear around a corner, Lindsay stifled the familiar frown forming on her face. She really had no idea what was up with him. Despite the fact that they seemed to be forming a great relationship, it was by no means solid. In fact, at times Lindsay thought that what she and Danny had was extremely fragile and tentative, set to break at any time with the slightest provocation. Sure, they spent time together when their schedules allowed it and the sex was amazing, but it was times like this when Lindsay realized that there wasn't much she knew about Danny Messer. And that caused her heart to beat painfully.

The thought had crossed her mind, more than once, that his interest in her was waning. And it certainly didn't help that there were copious amounts of alcohol involved in their first time together nor the aftermath of that day when he took her shift. She still felt some guilt over that. Although Danny had allayed some of that. He had, after all, made the choice to not wake her up.

A part of her reasoned that it was just the ups and downs of a relationship, a new relationship. But it still worried her. There were so many things that could go wrong. When she had gone over to his apartment to check up on him and he turned her away, it had hurt. A lot.

But no less than she deserved.

After all, hadn't she hurt him too? First by standing him up and giving him cryptic lame excuses, and then by shutting him down completely in the hallway that day without even an explanation. Just left him there hanging, looking and no doubt, feeling like a fool. In a way, she'd hurt him worse. A full-out rejection to the face versus a 'I can't talk to you right now and could you please leave' followed by the door shutting in her face. At least _he_ had left her some hope.

The minute she had started walking away from him, something between them broke. Changed. Morphed into something not so comfortable. Even when she got back from Montana, things had been slow. And Lindsay felt that in trying to fight to get back some normalcy between them, she had pushed too far in automatically jumping into bed with Danny. She shook her head, thinking back to that night. The plan had been to have a couple of drinks, play a few rounds of pool, talk, perhaps exchange a hopeful kiss, maybe ask him out to dinner, crack a joke about actually showing up, say goodnight, and leave. She had rushed things. And now she had no idea how to help Danny.

Lindsay sighed. Their relationship was so complicated sometimes.

He was shutting her out. And now she was confused as to her next course of action. She didn't want to push, but she didn't want to appear unsympathetic. Staring down into her coffee cup, Lindsay decided to give him a call after work. What she was going to say, she had no idea.

"Lindsay?"

Mac's voice snapped her out of her troubled thoughts and her head swung to look at him standing in the doorway of the break-room. His face heralded the coming of bad news. Shit.

"Hey, Mac. Got a new case for me?" she asked, hoping an holding her breath that he was upset over a case and not something personal. With the way her thoughts were going, she didn't think she could handle it.

If Life could morph into a person, it would've chosen that moment to swing that metaphorical 2x4 at her. "I'm afraid not. Come with me to my office please?"

Abandoning her coffee, it was starting to get cold anyway, Lindsay felt apprehension creeping up her spine as she trailed Mac to his office.

Closing the door behind her, Mac gestured for her to take a seat and she perched on the edge, staring up at him, waiting. The anxiety in her took the form of a cold hand, chilling her insides. "Mac, what's wrong?" She couldn't stop the tremble of rising fear in her voice.

The man she looked up to as a mentor, friend, and quite possibly surrogate father-figure stood in front of his desk, looking more tired than she had ever seen him. This was bad. He took a deep breath, staring at one of his best CSI's, and knew that his news was going to rock her.

"Lindsay, Daniel Katum's escaped."

Her world stopped. Mac's words repeated in her head, drilling themselves into her mind, forcing her to believe them, mocking any attempts at disbelief or denial.

Blank shock washed over her and Mac could almost pinpoint the exact moment when her heart stopped. He was thankful she was already sitting down.

Her mouth opened once, twice before her voice emerged in a whisper. "What? Wh-what do you – How?!" Her heart pounded and there was a rush in her ears. The cold fist that had formed in her had securely clenched itself around her lungs and was squeezing the life out of her, for all that she couldn't breathe.

Mac sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I just got a call from the County Sheriff's office. I don't know if you're aware of this, but apparently, the crime rate in and around Bozeman is increasing, which is only natural as the county expands. A new jail has just finished being built to accommodate the growing numbers. They just started doing transfers into it. Daniel Katum was one of those transfers. Despite having four consecutive life sentences on his head, he was deemed a low risk since the murders happened so long ago.

"He managed to escape, along with another inmate, during the transfer."

Mac paused before striding over to Lindsay, sitting frozen, and knelt in front of her. Gently taking her hands in his, he peered worriedly into her eyes, feeling the fear and panic rising in her."Lindsay...the sheriff put in a call to your parents, just to inform them, said he was an old family friend?" He hesitated as her brown eyes widened. "When they didn't answer, he drove out to their ranch. There wasn't a sign of them, but it looked like the place was ransacked. Lindsay...your parents are missing."

Life had officially begun its beating.

AN: And there ya go with the first chapter. Introspective Lindsay. I gotta warn you people: I take my sweet time to build up to things and I am **absolutely**, **positively** incapable of writing nothing less than a short novel.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

--

"The chief of police, your former boss, said that the escape happened yesterday morning," he paused as Lindsay let out a choked sound of disbelief and outrage at not being told immediately. "I know, but you know as well as I, that the first forty-eight hours are crucial. They needed to fully concentrate on what was happening around them and you are safe here in New York. An immediate investigation began and calls went out to mobilize a search for them. Your brother was informed and brought to the house to confirm if anything was missing." Mac noted her flinch when he mentioned her brother. Her eyes dropped to her lap.

"Besides some money, clothes, and food, your father's gun cabinet was also raided." Another flinch and Mac wanted desperately to stop, but she had to know. He squeezed her hands, trying to lend her strength. "There was no evidence of blood at the scene," flinch, "and the fact that the place was ransacked covered up any clear indication that a struggle may have taken place." Despite being only words, they continued to hit Lindsay worse than any fist or bullet. Her breath came faster, as if there was a giant hole in her chest sucking air out as she was trying to take it in. "Your parent's car was also missing and an alert has been issued. They're patrolling the city and major roads leading out, other counties are on alert and searching too, but so far nothing. Your brother informed the police of the make and model of your parent's car, but it's very popular."

Lindsay nodded mutely. To any farmer or rancher, a pick-up truck was just another essential piece of farm equipment. Her dad must've gone through two trucks, both blue, while she lived in Montana still. He had proudly showed off the blue 2006 Chevy Silverado Crew Cab that he'd bought while her mother stood in the background, rolling her eyes during the days of the trial.

Lindsay gave a tiny shake of her head. "H-how...how do they know that Katum's responsible for this?"

"Besides the fact that the timing is too coincidental, a report came in only an hour later after the escape from a woman who told police that her and her husband had been forcibly thrown out of their car while stopped at a gas station a few miles from the city and jail. Their descriptions match Katum and the other inmate. The car was found abandoned only a few miles down the road from your parent's ranch, tank was empty."

Her brow furrowed both in pain, but also in confusion. The CSI part of her, though vastly overwhelmed by emotions named panic, dread, fear, amongst others, prompted her to ask, "How did they know where my parents lived?"

Mac sighed. "There are a couple of theories bouncing around, but the most believed is that the other inmate, caught and convicted only three months ago, somehow had this information. It wouldn't have been too hard to get. Katum's trial was publicized widely. Police believe that he used this to trade for Katum's help in helping him escape. He offered Katum two things he really wanted: freedom and revenge." He shrugged and tightened his grip around Lindsay's cold hands. "Lindsay, there's more."

"There's more?" Lindsay's voice rose, enough to be heard outside Mac's office, attracting attention, including an already concerned Hawkes, and she clamped down the emotional urge to burst into tears while hyperventilating. While his office was a sanctuary of sorts, the walls were still made of glass and she would not break down in public. She would not.

"The inmate that escaped along with Katum. His name is Jackson Dakin and he, like Katum, is an only recently convicted killer, sentenced to life for torturing and murdering a family of four. It's possible that the two are traveling together - "

A half-sob, half-laugh cut him off. "So, you're telling me that it is entirely possible that my parents have been kidnapped by not only a man that would love nothing more than to exact revenge on me for sending him to jail, but also another murderer who liked to torture his victims before killing them." Lindsay's eyes were wide and her breath hitched, unable to breathe properly still. "Oh god." Unable to help herself any longer, Lindsay's face crumpled and tears rose to the surface. "Oh god, Mac, oh my god."

Hurriedly taking a seat next to her, Mac wound an arm around his distraught CSI, cursing the county sheriff's office for not keeping a tighter rein on its prisoners and Katum even more for existing in the first place. Would this never go away?

"Lindsay...Lindsay, look at me." Her brown eyes, glassy with tears, ceased their rapid darting and locked onto his face. "The chief of police has assured me that they're doing everything they can, making this their top priority. They're calling in extra help and they won't stop searching, Lindsay. You have to believe that they will find them."

Lindsay felt the tears run down her face and ducked her head, ashamed even now in a situation such as this, at losing control in public. In front of Mac no less. Squeezing her eyes shut, Lindsay struggled to control herself.

"Take the rest of today and tomorrow off Lindsay." He gazed at her bent head with a mixture of sadness and concern. "That's an order. Deal with this. I've asked the local police to keep me informed and I'll do the same for you. I know this is hard, but you have to stay focused all right? They will catch these guys, they will. But for now, go home."

Go home? Where was that? Her tiny apartment here in New York? Was this really her home? Or was it still back in Montana? Her heart broke. Home, with her parents. Their ranch. The place where she grew up, rode her first horse, met her first friend, had her first boyfriend, her first kiss, her first taste of a cigarette, attended prom...the wide open spaces, the open sky, the familiarity of her surroundings, the faces of friends...family. The place Katum had tainted once before by killing her friends with a shotgun and had tainted once more by storming in and taking her mom and dad. He had violated her home. He took her friends, took her innocence and childhood, traumatized her for life, and now he was taking away her parents. Go home? Where was that?

"Lindsay?" Mac's voice filtered through her tormented thoughts for the second time that day.

Jolting back, Lindsay wanted nothing more than to go crumple onto her couch and sink into despair. She swiped at the tears on her face."Yeah...yeah, I think I'll go do that." Lindsay couldn't stop the hiccuping sob that tore out of her chest. "I-I'm sorry Mac, I didn't mean to cry all over you, I-I just..." Lindsay trailed off in mid-babble.

The two sat in silence, both waiting for her to regain her balance.

Mac watched as Lindsay took a deep breath and his arm fell when she abruptly stood up. Standing up slowly, he watched as her back straightened. She turned toward him and her face, white and stretched, immediately reminded him of a trauma victim, save for the intense pain and despair in her eyes. Wiping her face dry and giving a small sniffle, Lindsay tried to give Mac a weak smile, only to clamp her lips tight together to stop their trembling. "T-thanks Mac," was all she could choke out, wanting to give in to urge to run away. "I...I'll just go, now."

Spinning on her heel, her grip on Mac's office door threatening to wrench it off its hinges. She could feel his eyes boring into her back, burning a hole between her shoulder blades. Around her, the lab continued in its daily bustle. People talking loudly, laughing at jokes their friends told, exclaiming excitedly over whatever events happening in their personal lives, shoes clipping across the shiny floor, rustling of clothes, papers shuffling, glass tubes clinking. All threatening to overwhelm her.

Hunching, Lindsay concentrated on maintaining her composure as she strode quickly toward the locker room. Grabbing her things, she slammed her locker shut and bolted for the door, heavy waves of worry and dread hitting her over and over, and all she wanted to do was lock herself in her apartment, kill Katum for cursing her life once more, call her brother in Montana for more information, and break down. Not necessarily in that order though.

Nearing the doorway, Lindsay crashed into Hawkes, her purse smacking lightly against his shoulder as he steadied her. "Whoa, Linds, you alright there?"

Looking into his concerned eyes almost broke her composure. The stress of the past few weeks, the confusion with Danny and now her parents made her want to collapse into his arms and sob the whole story out.

Instead, Lindsay swallowed hard and took a step back. "I'm fine, Shel. Sorry, I didn't mean to run into you. Are you alright?"

He nodded, the concern not leaving his eyes which narrowed slightly at the sight of her glazed eyes and slight shaking. The edges of her eyes were tinged red._She looks like a scared child_, he thought. "Are you sure you're fine Linds? And not just now, but, ah, back in Mac's office...you looked upset." _You still do_. He stuffed his hands into his pocket, trying to maintain a friendly, but non-overbearing stance. Lindsay, he knew, was the type of person to remain stubbornly shut-off unless approached in the right way. In the minute glance he had walking past Mac's office and then hearing his co-worker's voice rise slightly, he could tell that whatever they were discussing was serious. And bad. Very bad. Lindsay looked like she had just been shot, without warning, by a friend. Stunned and shocked. He'd moved on when he caught Mac's eye, but had lurked nearby, the distress on her face demanded he wait for a chance to talk to his friend. What with the recent case hitting close and personal to Danny the last few days, the last thing anyone needed was another tragedy. "I don't mean to pry, but it looked bad. Is everything okay?"

He watched as her eyes flickered and then mentally slumped his shoulders in defeat as he noted the tell-tale determined jaw clench that signified that Lindsay had already begun to close herself off._Damn_.

"Yeah, yeah, everything is fine," she said, adding hastily, "I mean, it was just..." _My parents have been kidnapped by murderers._ "Some bad news back home, but it's not serious." _Bullshit. My mom. My dad. I love them. I don't want them to die. I don't want to get a call saying their bodies have been found. This is my _**life** "It just shook me up a bit, that's all." _I can't breathe_. "Mac's sending me home, though, to deal with some things. Gotta make some phone calls and stuff. Don't worry." Lindsay made another failed attempt at a smile.

"Oh, okay then." Hawkes knew she was lying. Sometimes he wanted to shake Lindsay and chastise her, reminding her that he was her friend and that he was there for her. She didn't have to deal with anything alone. He'd seen her do it before, when she went back to Montana, and saw what it did to her. Somehow he thought that this time was going to be worse. And she was determined to go it alone. And she was going to break. He sighed and moved out of her way. "Well, if there's anything I can do, I'm a phone call away, alright? I mean that, Linds."

Lindsay was barely listening to him, feeling horrible, but just wanting to get out of the building. She was already moving past him, giving him a short nod, eyes fixed on the floor, mouth locked tight.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Hawkes called after her. His shoulders sagged, an uneasy frown forming on his face as he watched Lindsay ignore the elevators and slam through the door to the stairs. It looked as if she was trying to run away, from him, from the lab, or from something that you couldn't really run away from.

--

In complete contrast to the loud pounding of her racing heart and rapid gasping, Lindsay closed her apartment door with a quiet and slow click. Her purse dropped to the ground and she collapsed on the floor in the hushed darkness and sobbed. Cradling her face in her hands, she let it out. Wrenching sobs that wracked her body and seemed so loud, so loud in the darkened apartment. Lindsay clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries, lest the neighbors hear. _Shh, be quiet, Linds, baby girl, it's alright, I'm here._ Mrs. Chani next door could be nosy at times. _Don't cry, don't cry._ Through blurry eyes, she stared unseeingly into the shadowed dimness, not really seeing her furniture, but instead replaying thousands of memories of her parents.

Her mother, always carrying around that familiar comforting smell of home mixed with lightly scented powder wrapping soft comforting arms around her while reading her story. Lindsay remembered burrowing into them, closing her eyes and just listening and then later falling asleep in them. Her father, always smelled like the outdoors, hay, light odors from the animals in the barn, and wood. His arms were always so strong, wrapped tightly around her, protecting, sheltering, soothing after she'd almost been run over by a spooked horse. His voice, deep and reassuring, full of pride congratulating her on graduating from Montana State University.

_Baby girl...don't cry. Everything will be all right tomorrow. You'll see._

AN: Only the second chapter and I'm still building things up. The next two chapters, I dutifully promise, will be up this weekend or perhaps sooner :) Thanks to all who reviewed; it was a pleasant and much appreciated surprise.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: While I made some attempts to truly research the area around Bozeman, I can't say that I found the exact information I was looking for, so I was forced to make some stuff up. So, for any Montana natives out there, forgive me.

* * *

The ringing of the phone jarred Lindsay from her sleep and she fuzzily looked around. Her throat felt dry, her eyes stung, and her body was stiff. The phone rang again and Lindsay blindly reached for it, dimly aware that she was on her couch, still dressed in her work. Something clattered onto the carpet at her movement. _The day from hell_, she thought as everything rushed back to her and she picked up the receiver. To hear a dial tone. The phone rang again and she looked at it blankly before cursing and realizing it was her cell phone. Diving for her purse, she snatched it out before whoever it was hung up.

"Hello?" she croaked out, wincing at the scratchiness of her voice.

"Linds?"

It took a moment before Lindsay recognized her brother's voice. "Evan?" She cleared her throat.

"Yeah."

Slowly sitting up on the floor to unzip her boots, thankful at least that it was early fall and she hadn't tracked mud or snow all over her furniture. "Hey." Her voice was soft.

"Hannah said you called earlier today," her older brother's voice was quiet, subdued. "Are you still at work? I could call back." Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was nearing 11:30 at night. Evan knew about her crazy schedule.

"No, no." Lindsay threw her boots in the vicinity of the front door, hearing them thud against it. Jockeying the phone around in order to take off her jacket, she said, "My boss sent me home when he told me. Gave me the day and tomorrow off." She paused. "How are you?"

She heard him sigh heavily and felt the same. Tired. Heavy. She'd cried herself to sleep, dragging her body to the couch, wrapping her arms around a picture frame of her whole family. Lindsay's swollen eyes spied it on the carpet. She didn't even recall talking to Hannah, her sister-in-law, earlier.

"Probably the same as you I guess." He paused and it sounded as if he was raking a hand through his hair, a habit she'd seen him do a thousand times when he was stressed. "I had to go out to mom and dad's."

"I heard." Talking to her brother, she felt the numbness glide over her. It was if something inside of her was saying, _Okay, bad news acknowledged, had your emotional deal, now go fix it_. It was probably the CSI part talking. She was too tired to cry anymore.

Evan's next words proved she could still feel pain though. "All of mom's china was smashed. You know, the ones she got from grandma. Some of mine and Noah's clothes were missing." Her brother sounded numb like her. "Your room Linds..."

Lindsay's eyes slammed shut. Of course her brother would have more knowledge of what was going on. "Yeah?"

"Your room was trashed. Your books were all scattered, your posters..."

Katum. Bastard.

"I've spend the entire morning and afternoon helping, but then Jessie came home from school, and..."

Jessie, her five year old niece. Apple of her grandmother's eye. The two chatted some more, but Lindsay came to realize that Evan had a family of his own to look after and couldn't put his full participation into the search. Hanging up, her fingers were already dialing a still familiar number.

"Sorrell speaking," a voice with a country twang answered. Lindsay could almost picture her old mentor chewing on tobacco or something.

"Bill." Her tone conveyed all her questions and more.

"Lindsay! Girlie...how you holdin' up?" There sounded as if there was a lot of activity going on in the background, people calling out orders, running, gear rustling.

"I'd be better if you told me exactly what's going on."

Bill sighed over the phone and got right down to business. "Your parent's truck was found at the base of Bridger Mountains a short while ago, abandoned. Fingerprints on the steering wheel indicated that your father was driving. Your mother was in the backseat, we found a coupla' stray hairs. Two men, whom we can now safely assume to be both Katum and Dakin were in the other two seats."

"Bridger Mountains?" Lindsay murmured faintly. Located only twenty minutes from Bozeman, the mountains were a familiar 'stomping ground' for her and everyone else in the town. She had been up there countless times.

"As soon as Charlie sent out the call, we set up immediate road blocks and patrol cars are routinely checking the roads outta' here. The Big Sky Search and Rescue have been lending a hand from the air; they're the ones that actually spotted the car, by the way, we've got this town sealed, girlie. Best as we can figure, the two bastards panicked when they discovered we had blocked all roads heading north, to Canada. Probably got it into their desperate minds to ditch the car and hike across the mountains to the other side, good luck it'll do them, we'll be waitin' on the other side too. Maybe hoping that if they hide out in the mountains long enough, we'll give up or they may try to trade your parents. It's anybody's guess right now, girlie, but we've been scrambling to mobilize search teams to head on up all afternoon. We're lucky it's not winter season yet. It's still early in the game, so to speak, Charlie immediately requested search dogs; they couldn't have been far, the kidnapping happened less than seventy-two hours ago - "

Lindsay cut him off with a bitter snort. "You'd be surprised at how far someone can go in that time."

"Linds, have faith. We will find them. All the search and rescue teams are gearing up to go out there, some are already combing the mountains and these people know that range better than anyone."

"That's not the point!" she exploded before taking a shuddering breath. Her jaw started to tremble and for the hundredth time in less than two days, tears rose to the surface. "That's not the point, Bill," she repeated quietly, chest hitching. "Those mountains range far, the search area is huge. You could check that place twenty times over and still miss them. There are tons of nooks and crannies that they could hide in. They could live off the land if need be." The constant panic rose within in her once more as she easily envisioned the situation her parents were in. Alone with two desperate killers, dragged up, unprepared, into the mountains. People who wouldn't hesitate to kill them. _Oh god_. "Bill..." she whispered dishearteningly. "What if...What happens if..."

"Don't talk like that girl," he said sharply. She could almost see her old friend scowling at her, his finger pointing sternly in her direction, berating her for her lack of faith. "I don't wanna hear none of that nonsense coming out of your mouth, ya hear me? Don't wanna hear it. We'll find these sons of a bitches and we'll deal with them. You trust me and you trust everyone else out here, alright? Christ, girlie, you disappoint me with your lack of faith." She let him berate her, letting his angry words wash over her, knowing that he was only doing it to cover his own fears. Bill had been a dinner regular over at the Monroes' for the better part of her life there. He probably still went. He adored her mom's beef stew, the one she always made on Friday nights. Lindsay swallowed hard. There would be no beef stew on the table now.

The only thing wafting through the ranch would be a lingering tinge of pure unadulterated fear. Her parents' fear.

AN: I know, I know, no Danny yet. But I'm still building up to it! It's only the third chapter! Bridger Mountains are in fact real and located near Bozeman, Montana (is Bozeman a town or city? I have seen it referred to as both, so I've decided to go with the town route 'shrug') From the pictures I looked at while researching, it looks for some nice skiing and mountain hiking!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

AN: SPOILERS!!! I would like to reiterate that while I did read some spoilers, they were vague and incomplete, so I've taken what I have read and heard and mixed it with this fictional story.

* * *

He was tired.

Holding the jar of stomach contents that Sid had so generously bestowed upon him and making his way into the lab, Danny wondered why he chose to do this work when so many times it had knocked him down. First Aidan getting fired, Louie, Flack being hospitalized, the drug bust aftermath, and now this. Now Reuben. Reuben, the seven-year-old boy he sometimes played mentor to. Gone. Taken. By a single bullet.

Blue eyes strayed to a section of the lab as he walked, catching sight of a brown-haired head peeking over a black office chair and unbidden, a lurch of guilt enveloped him. Lindsay. His Lindsay. Recently, his confused Lindsay. Damn, what was he doing?

Danny thought back to the past few days. It had hurt so much when he found out that little Reuben had been shot. Kid had done nothing wrong, just walked outside. And some bastard ended it for him. He remembered how distraught Reuben's mother, Rikka, had been. The two had been neighbors and acquaintances for some time and being a single mother, Danny knew how appreciative she was that her son had found a positive male influence.

It was his fault. He should have been able to do something to prevent this. Could have. Would have. Should have. They were useless now. Another regret to add to the mess in Danny Messer's life.

He remembered the night he had gone home after solving the case and catching the asshole that did this. He'd made to walk into his apartment, intent on getting familiar with a dozen bottles of beer or perhaps something stronger when a meek voice called out to him.

Spinning around and catching sight of Rikka, disheveled, standing there, face drenched in tears, big green eyes filled with pain and despair, shaking and clutching tightly to a bedraggled teddy bear. One that he remembered Reuben petulantly denying sleeping with. Danny nearly lost it then and there.

She'd asked if she could come in, said her apartment had too many reminders, and that she needed to be with someone who understood what she was going through. Wordlessly, he opened the door for her.

The bottles of beer in his fridge were ignored in favor of coffee, knowing he wouldn't be going to sleep anytime soon. To be able to close his eyes and not see Reuben's body on the cold metal slab in the morgue. They'd sat on his couch, not saying much, knowing that there wasn't much to say, and bathed in each other's pain and sorrow.

Rikka's tears had come fast and hard with incoherent anguished mumbles of her baby boy and how he'd never...He'd never because he was gone. Latching onto Danny with the heartache only a mother would understand, he'd held her until the tears stemmed, pain receding, but not forgotten. A few tears of his own had slipped out when he inhaled the scent of the teddy bear in Rikka's arms.

A smell his mind automatically associated with Reuben. A unique smell. One-of-a-kind. Memories of the two playing ball, having manly chats, a pat on the back when Reuben proudly displayed work from school with a gold sticker for excellent work. Danny had shed more tears.

The kiss was not sudden. He'd seen it coming. The two had stared at each other before their lips met. For once, it wasn't his libido responding, but the grief connecting the two that prodded the two into taking their clothes off.

Overwhelmed with the longing to feel something else, anything else, the two wildly made their way to his bedroom where they took each other in a frenzy.

No soft kisses, gentle touches. No whispered words or tender caresses. Just fast, frantic, and hard. Anything to assuage the pain, the grief.

The two didn't speak after it was over. They had clung to each other in his bed, afraid that the despair would come back in their sleep.

And in the light of day, this day, not then, but now, Danny felt more than a twinge of guilt in that Lindsay, his Lindsay, hadn't even crossed his mind.

He'd had to leave for work early, a murder uptown, and he'd left Rikka curled up in his bed, arms around a teddy bear, the stress clearly lining her face even in sleep. Danny had written her a note saying that they had to talk, left a spare key, and walked numbly out of his apartment.

Danny had made it through his shift in a numbed stupor, going through the motions; his mind not fully there and was thankful when there were no new cases to catch him on the way out.

Rikka was gone from his apartment when he arrived. A new note had replaced his explaining that she had gone to see her parents and that she would see him later that night. His bed had been made up and their coffee cups rinsed and stacked.

Danny's mind had not really registered when Lindsay had shown up. Not really aware of his curt voice and abruptness. At that moment, much to his shame now, thoughts of Lindsay had not been in his mind, much less the forefront of it. He was a mess and he had to muddle his way back through it to the surface, in order to breathe properly again. Work through it the only way Danny Messer knew how: one step at a time. Lindsay standing on his doorstep that night had been in his way to finding his sanity again.

So he had dismissed her. At that moment, he hadn't cared what she thought or felt. Too concerned with his own emotional turmoil.

Rikka had shown up only an hour later, looking slightly better and on her own road to finding balance. They had talked. About Reuben, about his own guilt, about what she was going to do now, and about last night.

And both agreed that it was just something that happened. She was grieving, as was he. Both decided that it was a one-time thing, never to happen again and he still planned to go to the funeral with her. They parted ways with Rikka heading back to her own apartment to pack a few things and leaving to stay with her parents.

Only then did thoughts filter into his mind, the consequences of what he'd done replacing his self-condemnation over being unable to stop Reuben's death with guilt over what this was going to do with his budding relationship with Lindsay.

Danny shook his head before looking around him in the present time. Somehow his feet had led him to a lab where he had been sitting on a stool, staring at jar of stomach contents for who knows how long.

Thinking back to Lindsay sitting in their office, he felt his body sag in despair. She was sitting there, completely oblivious to his betrayal of her. Danny's blue eyes slid shut in remorse as he imagined only too clear the hurt in her beautiful brown eyes when he told her. And he would have to. Danny Messer was a lot of things, but he owned up to his mistakes and he owed it to her to be honest. God, this was one conversation he was not looking forward to.

Danny did not want to mess this thing he had with her. Not after waiting so long. They were finally getting to a place where he could almost begin to really open up and share tidbits of his life with her. Did he love her? Danny didn't think so, but did he care about her? An unequivocal hell yes. A lot. And already he had screwed up bad and because of that, he was now avoiding her. He hadn't talked to her since that night he coldly brushed her off.

His relationship with Lindsay wasn't solid. Even though they'd known each other for a little over two years, half of that was spent in a mixture of resentment for coming in and replacing Aiden and subtle flirting, followed by her sudden shut-down and his being left in the dark, struggling to maintain a normality around her that he didn't feel. Something had changed during the Ice Princess case and they were only getting it back now. But this...this thing...they had, it could go places. Places unknown and slightly scary to a former playboy like him, but places that with Lindsay, he wanted to go.

Giving himself a slight shake, he stood up. Introspective thoughts like his had no place at work With jar still in hand, Danny headed to talk to Adam about the trace he'd gathered at the crime scene

* * *

It was much later, the sun was starting to set, though still light out, when Danny managed to find a chance to step into his shared office, only to find Lindsay gone. He shrugged, not all that much in a hurry to confess his mistake to her, wanting to prolong any more tears when a post-it note on his computer screen caught his eye. 

-- D,

Hey, we work in the same office, but keep missing each other. What's up with that :) Anyway, in case we do keep missing each other...I hope you're alright. Can't help but worry about your city-boy butt. Call me.

-- L  
And there it was. His first real smile in the past few days. Lindsay's voice in his mind. Even though things had been rough lately, it didn't take much effort to bolster his spirit by recalling her one-thousand-watt smile and sparkling eyes as she teased him about his non-existent love-handles. Her country-girl to his city-boy.

"Hey Stella," he called out as the curly-haired woman strode past. "You seen Lindsay around?"

"Uh, no," she answered back. "Not since this morning anyway. Although I do recall her following Mac to his office a while back. Maybe she's out on a case." She shrugged and walked off, hunting for Hawkes, her partner in their case.

Danny nodded absently, rubbing the back of his neck and pondering what to do. He had wrapped up his

case, open and shut case of a robbery gone wrong resulting in a single death and the murderer now resting safely in jail. It was nearing six and the end of his shift. Lindsay, he had checked, was due off the clock at nine, but if she was on a new case, overtime was imminent.

At that moment, his cell rang and a recently familiar number was displayed on the lit screen. A frown passed over Danny's face. He hadn't talked to Rikka since the funeral. Thinking of her now brought on an air of unease.

"Hello?"

"Hey Danny," her voice was slightly loud in order to be heard over the traffic and other street noises.

"Hey Rikka." Danny shut the office door and sat slightly on Lindsay's desk, facing the hallway. For some odd reason, he wanted to keep a look-out for Lindsay and quickly end this conversation before she came, if she did. "How are ya doing?"

A slight shudder of breath as if to hold in a flood of tears and she responded, "I-I'm good. Doing well. Still staying with my parents, but I'm working through it. You?"

He nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Doing good. Doing good. What uh, what can I help you with?"

"Can-can I talk to you? I...I need to tell you something. Are you busy right now?"

Unable to help it, agitation reared up in him. Something in her voice did not bode well. "Nah. I can meet you. Are you at your apartment?" _Please say no, please say no._

"No, um, actually I'm at the Starbucks a few blocks away from your workplace. You know, the one next to the glassware store _Dacey's_?"

Danny's eyebrows rose. What was she doing near his work? The alarm rose. "Yea', I know that one. I can be there in a couple of minutes, alright?"

Rikka paused. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be here. Thanks Danny."

Danny shut his cell phone and looked at the clock. Six. It was a simple meeting. Nothing to worry about.

So why did his body feel like running?

AN: In case you missed it, this is still the same day, but from Danny's side.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Much, much appreciated!! I've been trying to upload for an hour, but couldn't because of 'technical glitches'. 'Sigh'

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE

Finally letting Bill off to sleep, something Lindsay herself should be doing, she dropped the phone down and leaned back against her couch for a moment. Knowing a little more on the case both eased her mind and took it to another level of fear altogether. The situation out in Montana was spiraling down dangerously and Bill had promised to call her with an update tomorrow night.

When he shouldn't have to. Lindsay frowned. Neither Bill or Evan or anyone else should have to keep her apprised of the situation because she should be out there. Among the searchers. For **her** parents.

She sighed. It felt like an eternity since Mac had sent her home.

Checking her cell phone, Lindsay saw a missed call from Hawkes and a tiny smile curled her lips. He was probably really worried about her. Such a good friend. She sighed again when she noticed that there was nothing from Danny. Either he didn't get her little note or, a tiny lump rose in her throat, he just didn't care. She was about to change and head off to sleep, or attempt to anyway, when her cell phone rang, displaying that the person calling was the one she needed the most. Danny. A tiny relieved smile crossed her face. She needed him so much. She answered the phone with an alleviated exhale.

The smile fell from her face a second later the moment she heard the tone of his voice. Tired...and regretful? The conversation was brief, not even lasting a minute, but he had to see her right then and could he come over if it wasn't too late? There was no teasing lilt in his voice and apprehension rose. She agreed and Danny was at her apartment so fast that she half-suspected that he had been lurking on her apartment's front steps when he called her.

Lindsay opened the door, looking disheveled in her work clothes. He wondered if she'd just gotten home. "Hey." Danny couldn't even muster up a smile. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, trying to stave off a chill running through his body.

"Hey." Her voice was soft and scratchy. "Come in. Haven't seen you for awhile...I was worried." Why did she feel so awkward?

"I'm fine." **_Liar_.**

He looked around her darkened apartment, still unfamiliar with the layout. Danny had only been there twice before. Glancing at her, Danny was reminded of the days just before Lindsay had left for Montana, for the trial. She looked haggard and distressed. "Are you alright there?"

Not even a kiss on the cheek hello. Exhaling heavily, Lindsay shut the door and checked the man in front of her over. "I think I should be asking you that question." He looked pale and worn-out. The man standing in front of her was not the same man who acted like a smart-ass and broke suspects down with quiet determination. His blue eyes had no spark. Laugh lines transformed themselves into fatigued creases. His proud native New York attitude replaced by the defeated slump of weary shoulders.

The two made no move to walk further into the apartment and the silence was heavy. How had things between them degraded so badly? To this. Standing in front of each other like virtual strangers. Wasn't it just a few weeks ago that she and Danny were sharing a bed, exchanging soft touches and passionate kisses, teasing whispers, and eyes filled with tender need? Both of them entering a world where nothing existed but them and the feelings each other's touch invoked in the other. Feelings of warmth, passion, caring. But now...now there was nothing but emptiness. The two of them were standing only a few feet across from each other, but it might as well have been a giant chasm between the two.

Momentarily, Danny thought about confessing some other time, seeing the pallid strain on Lindsay's face, but steeled himself. She had a right to know. Everything.

He did not want to do this.

Did not want to hurt her. See her cry.

Catching sight of her laptop, Danny licked his lips, somewhat nervously, trying to distill the strained atmosphere. "Catching up on news back home?"

Lindsay swiftly turned her head to cover her cringe at the word 'home' and closed her laptop cover. "Yeah, sort of." She steadied herself and glanced back at him. "So, what is it you wanted to talk about?"

Now it was Danny's turn to hide his face as he ducked his head.

Surveying his heavy stance, Lindsay could already feel her heart break._ Bad news. Damn it_. How much more could she take? "I can already tell it's not good. So...maybe you should just do it fast like a band-aid," she quipped lamely, struggling to put a light note in.

_This was going to hurt more than that._ "I slept with Rikka," Danny blurted out. _Shit. Nice going, Messer_. His eyes darted to her face, not wanting to see heartbreak on her face, but forcing himself to.

He watched as her eyes first went blank, with confusion, with disbelief. "Rikka?" she said faintly. Lindsay's face was frozen. For the second time in two days now, her heart smashed to pieces. Who knew it was possible to inflict so much pain with so little words?

His hands clenched into fists in his pockets, the chill spreading throughout, freezing his insides and he stood there. Now that he'd confessed, Danny was afraid. She looked so staggered It hurt him so much to tell her this. "Reuben's mom. Linds, it was - " He stopped his desperate tirade at a raised hand from her.

Still rooted to the floor and just like in Mac's office, Lindsay's mind shut down while her insides turned hollow. Surprisingly, her wide eyes remained dry for longer than she thought. Her earlier breakdown seemed to have cleared her out. Her voice, still a whisper, she asked, "When?"

Danny swallowed hard. "The night the case wrapped up." He didn't elaborate further and he didn't think she wanted him to anyway.

The tears started to come then. Lindsay could feel them rushing to the surface whilst her exhausted body protested. _No more. I can't take this no more._

Lindsay raised an unconscious eyebrow and her eyes remained fixed on the door beside him, glassy with unshed tears. She nodded almost absently. "Oh." Her lip trembled and Lindsay took a deep quivering breath. "I guess..." licking her lips, "I guess I kn-know why now, y-you didn't want me at your apartment that next night, huh?" Why he was avoiding her. He'd moved on. Already. Her face crumpled and she bit her trembling lip, still unable to look at him. She sniffled. _Stupid girl, you should have seen this coming. Stupid._

"No," Danny said strongly, wanting desperately to stride across the room and hold her. But her hurt-filled face was his penance. He couldn't have her, not now, not anymore. "No Linds, that's...that's not why I..." He raked a frustrated hand through his hair. "I was still struggling that night and you..." _I didn't need you to be there._ He didn't think she'd understand that in the way he meant.

Lindsay's abused lips were ignored in favor of clenching her jaw. She sniffled again. "Was she the one you were waiting for?" _Never should have rushed things. Never should have gotten involved._

He couldn't lie to her. "Yes. But it was only to tell her that it was all a mistake," he rushed, his blue eyes imploring her to understand. "I was in pain and-and so was she.** It was a mistake**. I wasn't thinking straight, I just...I just wanted to forget the horror." Danny took a tentative step toward her and flinched as Lindsay automatically took a step back, bumping into her kitchen island and wrapping her arms around her. Keeping the distance between.

She nodded, but Danny knew that it was a mechanical move. She didn't really know what she was nodding to. "Did you sleep with her again?" The air was both suffocating and electrifying at the same time.

"What? No! No, Linds, please, I told you. I was hurting - "

Lindsay burst out with a slight hysterical edge, close to hyperventilating and choking on her tears. "Then you should have come to me! I tried to be there for you, but you wouldn't let me." Her voice broke. "I went to your apartment because I wanted to help. Anything I could've done to help you through this, I would've done it, anything, because I cared about you. God, Danny, I tried to show you...I tried...but you...you just shut me out!"

Despite the pain he was causing her along with the feeling of his insides crumbling in anguish, his temper flared. "Shut you out? Let's not forget how you did the exact same thing to me, Linds. I couldn't face you for a night. You left me hanging dry for months." Immediately, Danny regretted it. The pain; they didn't need to heap more pain on each other. They were already feeling too much.

Her face was incredulous. "Is that what this is about? I hurt you before and now it's your turn to hurt me? Is that it? I fully admit that I was an idiot for acting the way I did with you back then. Like a martyr or something. Do you want me to say I'm sorry for that? Because I am! All right? I'm sorry I hurt you before, I was selfish in not trusting you, I was an idiot. Is that what you want? What are we playing at here? A game of 'I hurt you, you hurt me'?"

Danny's hands clenched in frustration. This was rapidly veering out of control. They were both hurt and lashing out. Danny half-expected her to start throwing things, around or at him; it didn't matter. And he still had more to tell her.

Quietly. "She thinks she might be pregnant."

Lindsay shattered.

Her heart lay at her feet in a thousand tiny pieces.

Danny looked so lost and so damn sorry, pleading hurriedly with her, "It's not sure yet. I'll know tomorrow. God, Linds, I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you or for any of this to happen." His hands went out to her, beseeching; his heart in his throat creating a lump so big it hurt like hell to swallow. His eyes burned. "I've done something unforgivable and I know I'm hurting you so much by saying these things, I don't want to, I don't want to hurt you. God, please, I'm so sorry, you can't know how much, but please..." he pleaded. "I still want this." His chest heaved as his breath came faster, gasping almost as he pleaded, begged whatever higher power out there for Lindsay to understand. To understand exactly what he was feeling. _Please_.

"This?" Her voice was whisper-quiet, but came out like a whip. She looked at him in disbelief. Her mouth opened, closed, once, twice. "You come here and tell me you slept with another woman and that she might be pregnant with your child and you still think there's a this?" The last word was raised in a higher nose as Lindsay waved her hand, almost frantically, at the space between them. She choked. "Oh god."

She turned away, clutching her hair with her hands. "I do not need this right now. Jesus...I fucking do not need this right now." Tears fell from her face to the floor.

Danny's face collapsed in regret, in pain, in sadness at watching her break down. "Lindsay..." Reaching out to her once more. He felt sick.

"Don't touch me," she said harshly, spinning around to pin him with red cloudy eyes, tear tracks running down her cheeks. Her hands still clutched at her hair. "Don't," she repeated quietly.

Lindsay let out a painful laugh, filled with heartache, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "I guess that's it then, isn't it? You and me. This thing. Over." Her head hurt. Her heart hurt. Her voice, subdued. Defeated.

A thousand different thoughts swam through his head, pouring out in cracked recriminations.

_I don't want this to be it._

_I don't want this to be over. _

_I didn't mean to hurt you._

_Please forgive me._

_I'm sorry._

_I'm so sorry. _

He said nothing.

She opened her door and out he walked.

It slammed behind him and Danny heard a thud. Whipping off his glasses, he furiously swiped at his tears. Any anger and frustration swiftly turned into sharp spikes of remorse when he realized he could still hear her loud sobs through the door and rather than fall apart in front of her apartment, he weakly leaned against the wall beside it, compelling himself to listen to her, willing himself to inflict her pain onto him.

He deserved it.

A/N: Sooo, tonight's episode is a repeat...and I was so looking forward to seeing Child's Play full of anticipation and dread (with a box of tissues to either use or throw at the TV or both, depending on Danny's actions in the eppy). But it seems I'll have to wait until next week. Boo!


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: A question was raised about the time-line of this story. This happens three-four weeks after Child's Play. Also, I'm sorry for the long wait for this chapter; I got a little busy these past few days. And I want everyone to be aware that I had already mapped this story out before The Thing About Heroes aired, so I'm completely disregarding the conclusion of Mac's 3:33 caller.

* * *

The morning sun shone through the slits in the blinds of her bedroom, as if to mock her pain. Another day and perhaps another blow. Time did not stop no matter how much life knocked you down. 

The world keeps moving.

Lindsay groaned and curled up tighter in her bed, burying her face into her pillow. Through the pounding of her head and battling the fuzziness that accompanied it, slowly, painfully, Lindsay recalled the past events and was two things.

Heartbroken and extremely thankful to Mac for giving her time off. She wasn't strong enough to face him yet. Would she ever be? Lindsay could picture a dozen pint-sized little people in her head, shaking their fingers at her in disappointment, scolding repeatedly in tiny voices, '_See? This is why office relationships never work._' Stupid girl.

Tears leaked out of the corners of her closed eyes. Danny...

From the first moment she saw him, Lindsay knew that Danny Messer was dangerous. He was a gorgeous man and what made him so dangerous was that he knew it. In the beginning, it was being new, in the lab and in the city, that made it easy to keep her distance. But slowly, slowly, the real Danny began to show himself. He wasn't perfect, neither was she; both of them had major issues, skeletons in the closet, and were complicated individuals by themselves Put them together and it was bound to be turbulent.

But it became so much more than that. When she was with Danny, it was explosive, full of amazement, hesitance, passion, want, need...it did not take much for Danny to get under her skin. Before, Lindsay's heart skipped whenever Danny was close; his smile, his sparking blue eyes, toned body, but now it jumped and jerked, filled with the knowledge that _he was hers_. It always made her catch her breath and a smile radiated from her face knowing that he was her guy. Danny's girlfriend. Lindsay's boyfriend. It sounded juvenile, but feeling giddy emotions was human nature. The time they spent together at first felt so right. But it seems...that it wasn't meant to last.

He started out by ignoring her. Fine, she could handle that; he was hurting and this was how he dealt with it. He got cold. Began avoiding her. Was this how he handled breaking up with all his girlfriends? And finally slept with someone else, taking weeks to confess. Lindsay guessed that she was lucky he even told her. Now, this woman might be having his baby. She had pegged Danny right; he was dangerous and he had wrecked her.

She shook her head, immediately regretting it as the pounding grew worse and Lindsay let out another groan before heaving herself out of bed, stumbling toward her bathroom. Aspirin was a definite friend after she began her drinking spree shortly around 1:30 in the morning, passing out who knows when.

But hey, it made her feel something different, right? Lindsay twisted her face into a scowl, dry swallowing the white pills and mocking Danny's words from yesterday or rather earlier that morning. Needed to feel something other her own personal agony. Maybe she should go out and sleep with Mr. Joe-somebody and throw it in Messer's face. How would he like that?

A second later, Lindsay dismissed her bitter thoughts. Shoving them and anything remotely related to her Italian co-worker and now ex-boyfriend in a metaphorical lock-box, secured and buried in the corner of her mind.

Lindsay supposed it was a good thing that Danny never really visited her place. It had become her sanctuary more than ever. She looked at her drawn face in the bathroom mirror under the horrid florescent light and asked herself if she was strong enough for the coming days. The last real thread keeping her up and keeping her grounded was gone. She would find refuge in Danny's arms no more. Her lips would never touch his and they would never look the same way at each other again. Pain and heartbreak would be the only things that colored her vision of him.

Although, she still had to work with him and it would hurt like hell for awhile, but there was healing in pain too. When she was fifteen, Lindsay thought her world was over when her best friends were taken from her, but it didn't and she moved on. The feeling was the same now and she would have to struggle to hold on once more.

So yes, Danny Messer **had** wrecked her, but he sure as hell hadn't broken her.

Besides, her jaw clenched, her parents needed her right now.

Padding into her kitchen, still not turning on any lights, Lindsay began cleaning up while making up a plan. From her conversation with Evan, he had told her that Noah, her other brother, the middle Monroe, was on his way back to Montana. Noah, closer to her in age by only being a year older; Lindsay was closer to him and she needed to be there. To that end, she started the coffee-maker and booted up her laptop, checking for available flights.

By the time the coffee was ready, Lindsay found two flights heading to Bozeman later that day, both with stop-overs, but she'd take what she could get. Picking up her cell phone, she hit speed dial 2 and waited.

"Taylor." Mac's voice was always so steady, much like the man himself. She envied him that. Lindsay didn't waste any time. "Hey Mac. I'm going to need to take some time off." She took a sip of her coffee.

She heard him sigh."Lindsay..." and she hastened to reassure him.

"Mac, relax." She set her cup down. "I'm not...I'm not going to do anything. I just...need to be with my family."

"Lindsay, I understand. I really do, but you're too personally involved." He sounded like he was shuffling some papers around. Typical Mac. Never left the office.

"Personally involved? Mac, half of Bozeman is personally involved! I used to call the chief of police Uncle Charlie until he became my boss, half the Bozeman PD are friends of the family, those volunteers out there searching for my parents are all personally involved, most of them come over for regular dinner visits, attend church together. My parents are god-parents to at least a couple of their kids as am I to others. Friends from high school, university." She paused. "Mac...I'm not going to be doing any cowboy tactics...please. My brother needs me there. My other brother is flying to Montana as we speak and I'm here. I can't..." she took a deep breath, "I can't **not** be there, Mac, please."

Mac sighed heavily. "While those are all good points, Lindsay and as much as I **do** want you to be with your family, please believe me when I say that I am doing this for your own good. While all those people you listed**are** involved, none of them can also confess to having a connection to your parents **and** Katum. Lindsay, your presence there may just cause additional stress. It might even rile Katum up even more."

"But Mac - "

Pausing for a moment, Mac continued, "I can give you two extra days off Lindsay. Two more days, but then I need you back here at work, bright and early Sunday morning. I know you Lindsay, you're not the type to just sit back and let others work if you think you can do something about it. But that's what you're going to have to do, Lindsay. Sit back."

Silently letting out a breath, Lindsay held up her hand, even though he couldn't see it. "Fine. I understand, Mac. Bright and early Sunday morning." She hung up and sat in silence before her brown eyes caught the web page still on the airport bookings page. Flight from JFK to Bozeman, Montana with a stop-over in Indianapolis at noon.

It was nine in the morning and Lindsay was holding her breath as she booked herself a flight.

Mom. Dad.

* * *

Mac set the phone down, taking a moment to frown concernedly at as though he could see Lindsay through it. She sounded better, but why did he get the feeling it still wasn't over. 

"Trouble?" Stella asked, having caught the last end of Mac's conversation when she entered his office a minute ago. Automatic concern rose in he eyes when she heard Lindsay's name.

Shaking his head, Mac said, "It's fine. Got some bad news back in Montana that she needs to deal with. " He looked at his colleague. "What's going on?"

Stella kept her place by the door. "Got a call. Dead body uptown. Interested?" She grinned.

Mac ducked his head to cover a laugh and moved to grab his coat and kit. Across the lab, he caught sight of Flack talking to Danny and he mentally shook his head. First Danny, now Lindsay. He could only hope that his team would emerge from this healed and strong.

"Angell's meeting us there."

"I'm driving."

--------

"Gunshot to the head and heart." Stella reported to Mac as she couched over the body. Together, they gently rolled the dead woman onto her side.

"No exit wound for either," Mac commented.

Ruffling through the victim's coat and pants pockets, Stella announced, "No ID on her or any personal effects; it's possible that robbery was the motive."

Letting his eyes rove over the body, Mac frowned a moment, staring at the Caucasian woman's face. Her eyes were open. Expression frozen. There was a niggling thought in the back of his mind.

"There's too much blood here to only be from these two wounds, especially around her stomach area. I don't see any punctures, but..." With Mac's help, the two carefully unbuttoned the woman's green silk shirt and were taken aback by what they saw.

"LIAR," Stella read the word carved into the woman's stomach in big bold letters. "A message?"

"Or a punishment," Mac said. "With these shots and this message, I'd say this was personal." His eyes flitted back to Jane Doe's face. "Someone really didn't like our victim." After further examination of the body and taking samples, Mac signaled the coroner while he and Stella searched the area.

"No blood splatter or spray. No evidence of a struggle." Stella checked the nearby dumpsters.

"There's nothing here to indicate she was shot here."

Stella walked toward him with a slight frown. "Are you thinking this was a dump job, Mac?"

He raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as the two continued to search for any evidence in the alley to connect the place to the victim and crime. Spotting an odd sight, Mac shaded his eyes as he looked up at the fire escape of one of the buildings and he moved closer.

"Find something Mac?" Stella called, some distance away.

He turned to answer, arm still raised, when a single gunshot rang out.

Screams rose from the bystanders, drawn in by morbid curiosity, and more than a few ran for safety. The police on the scene had their guns out in mere seconds, eyes scanning while, on the concrete, Stella rolled to find protection up against a dumpster; her gun in her hands.

Peering around cautiously, her green eyes widened with horror. "Mac!"

He lay unmoving.

* * *

A/N: I don't really know what age Lindsay was during the whole Katum thing, so I guessed. On an off-note, did anyone else feel slightly unsatisfied with the conclusion of the 3:33 caller? I mean, it seemed so slick, the way the caller knew everything (the missing luggage, the finding of Mac in London with the hotels, the skeleton (how in the heck did he manage that without being seen?), the subway sabotage, etc...) It all seemed so **slick**! And then, boom, in one episode, they managed to find him quite easily. I don't know, maybe it's just me, but it wasn't as explosive as I thought it'd be. 'shrug' 


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: Apologies for the late update; RL took an unexpected turn that left me scrambling. :( I'll try to update again sometime next week.

* * *

"Call an EMS! Now!" Stella yelled as she made her way quickly, but cautiously toward Mac. He was still breathing, but made no other movement. In the background, Stella could make out Angell screaming out orders

"Mac," Stella called, worry causing her voice to tremble. "Mac."

His breathing was labored and raspy. "Stel..."

"Hold on Mac, just hold on okay?" Stella assessed the damage. A gunshot to the left side which may or may not have punctured a lung. She took the edge of his coat, bundled it up, and pressed hard against the opening of the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. His eyes kept fluttering and Stella's panic rose.

The sound of running heels came her way, revealing a winded Angell. "EMS units have been called and are on their way. Officers checked the surroundings and witnesses, but nothing." She looked perturbed and then relieved as the familiar sounds of the EMS van driving up as close as they could.

Stella relinquished her task to the trained professionals as they flocked around her oldest friend before being distracted by a phone ringing. A paramedic scooped out Mac's cell phone out of his pocket and Stella immediately snatched it, disregarding the fact that her hands were bloody. Not exactly thinking straight, she answered, "Hello?"

"Detective Taylor's not having a good day, is he?" And the caller hung up.

Pulling the phone away from her ear, Stella looked at the display. 333.

* * *

"Yo, Danno, you look like crap. Rough night?" Flack strolled into the office, grinning his usual grin. He bit back the rest of his question. _Is Linds not taking care of you?_ Flack kept his tone light and joking knowing that the last thing his friend needed was for others to look at him with sympathetic pity with recent events.

Danny said nothing, merely ran a hand through his hair and kept his gaze on his paperwork. The grin slipped from Flack's face as he took a closer look at his best friend. "Danny?"

Almost as if he had just heard Flack's voice, Danny's head shot up and Flack had to school his face to prevent pure worry from showing. Danny had looked like he'd been through the ringer...twice and then been told his apartment had burnt to the ground with all his possessions in it. "You okay?"

"Fine." Clearing his throat of its hoarseness, Danny sighed. He had not gotten any sleep after he forced himself to walk away from Lindsay's door and from there, he walked; letting his feet take him in whatever direction. He'd ended up at an all-night diner where he forced himself to eat and binge on coffee until finally unlocking his apartment door, heading straight to his hamper, pulling out the sheets of that night, went back out and around his building where he spent a good hour watching them burn in a trashcan.

Danny spent the rest of the time until his morning shift sitting in the dark, an unopened bottle of beer twirling between his fingers.

Once again, something good in his life was marred, ruined. His body was exhausted, but Danny couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. All he could see were overlaying images of that night and then Lindsay's beautiful face streaked with tears and turning away from him in pain; all he could hear were her sobs, her voice laced with heartbreak. The whole thing made his chest hurt. In all the time he'd known her, Danny had never seen Lindsay so broken and a part of him wondered how deep her feelings for him were. Was it possible she was falling in love with him? The thought should have given him a warm feeling, after all the pursuing he'd done, to have the girl he had wanted for so long falling for him. The thought should have made him smile, giddy with triumph, but rather, his body just grew heavier. He'd ruined everything. And now it was over. She'd never grace him with a genuine smile again. How were they supposed to work together? Damn it; Danny had really made a mess of everything. What was he supposed to do now?

Insanely curious about what was up with his friend, Flack instead nodded and leaned back against Danny's desk. "Anyway, there's a game on tonight. You wanna hit up Lucane's after work? They've got bigger screens and cuter waitresses." He winked. Maybe when lubricated with alcohol, Danny could be persuaded to talk.

"I'm on call tonight," was Danny's only response. He shuffled a few papers around his desk, but didn't appear to actually be doing any work.

Flack was getting a bit weirded out by this despondent version of Danny. "We could still catch the game though. And eat, eating's always good." He glanced at the other empty desk in the room, wondering where Lindsay was. "Sound good?"

A tired nod was his only answer and Flack was beginning to wish for a case to plop into his lap. Maybe then Danny could actually focus on work. Then again, paperwork could suck the fun out of anyone.

"Hey guys."

Hawkes! Flack almost gave a sigh of relief. Perhaps the doc could offer some suggestions to get Danny out of this bizarre, unnatural funk. It was creeping him out. A pained-looking Danny did not fit into Flack's happy world and he needed to go. He turned to greet the good doctor. "Hey man." Something resembling a grunt came from Danny's direction, causing Hawkes to raise an eyebrow by which Flack responded with wide eyes and a tiny shrug.

"Have any of you talked to Lindsay lately?"

Ah ha! Flack's keen detective skills detected a small wince flashing across Danny's face. So it was girl problems, eh? His curiosity demanded more info. "Nah, can't say I have," he responded, keeping one eye trained on his friend. "Why? What's up?"

Hawkes too, had noted Danny's dejected behavior and answered slowly, also keeping an eye on his blond-haired friend. "She got some bad news yesterday," Danny's eyes flinched, "something back in Montana," Danny tensed slightly and for the first time, his head shot up to fix his pained blue eyes on Hawkes with something akin to horror flashing across his face, "she said it wasn't serious but I could tell it was. Mac sent her home in the afternoon to make some calls and stuff. I called her last night, but got no answer. I was hoping perhaps you guys knew what was going on?" And by guys, he really meant Danny.

Panic coursed through Danny. Why hadn't Lindsay said something last night? His question about her checking up on things at home on her laptop came back to him and he cursed silently. Why hadn't she told him? He never would have told her then. She looked to him for support and he broke her heart instead. He called himself a dozen insulting names. Hawkes had said that Lindsay told him it wasn't anything serious, but it was. Her strained and drawn face was evidence of that. What had happened? Danny silently swore again. God.

"Huh." Flack, though concerned, for his Montana friend, was more interested in Danny's reactions. There was definitely something going on there. At that moment, his cell phone rang, prompting him to answer it.

"Flack." What he heard on the other end caused his eyes to widen and body to straighten immediately, all semblance of his carefree attitude taking a backseat to Detective Donald Flack. Hawkes and Danny noticed and stilled, listening closely.

"Got it. We're on our way. Keep me updated Stel." He lowered his phone, blue eyes full of worry. "Mac's been shot."


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews everyone! They do mean a lot:)

* * *

They'd forced Stella to relinquish her grip on his hand as the paramedics worked to stabilize Mac on the way to the hospital. Stella Bonasera did not balk at the sight of blood; in her job, she had most definitely seen worse, but it was the fact that it was Mac's blood on her hands that left her shaking lightly during the ride. 

The EMTs had worked quickly and efficiently, their voices calm as they worked and Stella outwardly projected the same, but her mind was racing furiously. She had left Angell at the scene, secured and tighter than normal, to await the arrival of Danny, Hawkes, and Flack whom she had hastily called while Mac was being loaded into the van. She'd told Angell to bag Mac's cell phone.

A jolt signaled the van stopping and Stella dimly registered the movement of the paramedics jumping out and shipping Mac through the emergency room. For a moment, everything was so surreal. She dazedly scrambled after them where a nurse stopped her shortly after from following. Moist green eyes watched as a doctor shouted for a nurse, any of the four of them flocking around Mac's stretcher, to start a blood transfusion to counter the rapid blood loss while an IV was simultaneously being inserted along with a heart monitor.

It happened all so fast. But in the second before the door swung shut in her face, the only thing Stella could focus on was how still Mac's body seemed.

"Ma'am?" A gentle, but firm touch brought Stella out of her daze and the face of a middle-aged nurse filtered into her view. "Ma'am, there's a washroom just around the corner if you wish to wash up."

Wash up? Jerking her face to look at her hands, Stella looked at them. Stained such a vibrant red. It had started to cake under her fingernails, smearing the edges of her oatmeal-colored blazer and forever ruining her pants. Mindlessly nodding and moving away from the nurse who looked as if she might have to treat her for shock, Stella strode toward the washroom. The clicks of her shoes echoed on the linoleum floor.

After scrubbing her hands raw and folding up the cuffs of her blazer, it was ruined anyway, Stella took a seat in the somewhat crowded emergency room, waiting anxiously for any news. The plastic chairs were small and uncomfortable and the overhead florescent lights hummed dully. And Stella shut her eyes, praying that she was not about to lose one of the most important people in her life.

* * *

"Damn," Hawkes cursed as he surveyed the exact same scene that Stella and Mac had just been at. His face was fixed into a deep frown. 

Danny's angry face spoke for him. Kneeling down, he looked at the blood pool. Mac's blood pool.

"Angell talked to some witnesses that were watching and came back with less than helpful information. Most ducked when the shot was heard while one or two reported hearing the shot and then Mac jerking before falling to the ground. Searched the perimeter, no gun has been found. Angell herself, had her back turned and saw nothing. She did say however, that the sound of the shot may have been closer to Stel and Mac's position than her own. Can't be certain though since sounds echoes in alleys like this." Flack shook his head, reading from his notebook. "A shooting in broad daylight in an area surrounded by cops. Whoever this is, he's gutsy."

"We'll find him," Danny replied, standing up. "We can't precisely predict where the bullet came from or how far the shooter was without the bullet or taking a look at Mac's injuries. Stella should know more. This alley was completely closed off, brick wall at one end, cops at the other." He gestured with his hands.

"What about these buildings Flack? What's in them?" Hawkes asked, examining the ground for any dropped shell casings.

Consulting his book, Flack rattled off, "Rental offices, both of them."

"It's a fair distance from the entrance of the alley to here. If nobody over there," Danny jerked his head at the crowd of onlookers and cops, "saw anything and if Angell is right in thinking that the sound of the gunshot may have been closer to Stella and Mac's position, then the shooter had to have been hidden nearby." Danny's lips quirked. "Provided that Stella herself didn't do it."

The other two shared a grin. "Stella's scary on her own. She doesn't need a gun," Flack retorted.

"Which means," Danny looked up, "discounting that there's a sniper loose in New York, the shooter had to have been hiding in one of these buildings. Watching Stel and Mac through a window, waiting to take a shot." His blue eyes scanned the unwashed panes of glass of both buildings when he caught the same sight that Mac had seen. "Look at that."

Flack and Hawkes looked up. "It looks like...a paper, taped to the window, a newspaper..." Hawkes remarked. "With red stains on it."

"Possibly blood," Flack added his two cents.

"Could be ink," Hawkes debated.

"Let's check it out then. Hawkes, you want to start with the other building?"

With a nod and a shoo-ing motion from his friend, Danny and Flack headed towards the building's entrance. The police had maintained the perimeter, but Angell had left. Her case was the Jane Doe in queue at the morgue with Sid.

Hawkes resumed his search in the alley for a few more minutes, but found nothing. He grabbed his case and signaled for an officer to follow him.

Danny and Flack made their way up the stairs with a frightened owner of the building in tow, giving him a clipped explanation downstairs, to investigate all the offices that had windows facing the alley, starting with the one with the newspaper on the fourth floor. The owner had nervously explained that it was empty and locked.

Examining the door, ajar, there was clear indication that it had been picked. Motioning the owner to stand aside, Flack took up position beside the door and with a nod, pushed it open and crept in, Danny following quickly.

"It's clear," Flack announced minutes later, replacing his gun in its holster. Danny flicked on his flashlight, the owner had said that whoever rented his offices paid for their own electricity, and began looking.

"It looks like they wiped their footprints away as they were leaving," Danny commented, shining his light at the dusty floor. "Drag marks." He followed the cleaned path which led him straight to the window. After examining it, the window, and the area around the two and finding no fingerprints, no gun shot residue, and absolutely no trace, Danny gently pried the tape off the window. Turning the newspaper over, a frown came over his face.

It was a newspaper dated last year, during the whole Clay Dobson fiasco. Some reporter had taken a picture of Mac striding out of the courthouse with a stormy expression. Danny remembered this article well; he'd thrown it out after reading it with mounting irritation.

'New York's Finest Under Fire' was the headline, but what caused Danny to frown was that in the picture, Mac's entire face and body had been covered in blood.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

AN: I am totally disregarding eppy The Thing About Heroes. **Bold **writing indicates Mac's writing in the last part of the chapter. On with the story!

* * *

It had been a long night and with the dawn of a new day came renewed hope. 

After processing what they could, the rest of the team had gathered at the hospital in the late hours of Thursday night to await news on their boss and friend.

Relief arrived in the form of a tall middle-aged doctor with the beginnings of gray hair by the name of Dr. Sevan. Asking for a Stella Bonasera as Mac's emergency contact, he explained to the concerned group, but mostly to the worried curly-haired woman that Detective Taylor was going to be just fine.

The bullet had entered the left side and lodged in the tissue of the left lung, causing it to collapse, but otherwise did no further damage. It never came near any vital organs and that Detective Taylor's vital signs remained stable throughout the operation. There was some blood loss, but again, nothing serious, requiring no further transfusions during surgery. He was not awake yet, however. Dr. Sevan went on to explain the surgery he'd had to perform with only Hawkes really understanding his words.

All in all, Detective Taylor was expected to awaken and recover with no unforeseen complications. Dr. Sevan estimated that his recuperative time to be around one-to-two weeks. Understanding that Detective Taylor was shot on the job, he handed the bullet over to a relieved and determined Danny.

Seeing the tiredness in his friend's eyes, Hawkes promptly snatched the evidence bag containing the bullet out of Danny's hand and then ordered Flack to take the man home. Flack, with his amusement evident, silently agreed with the good doctor, and pushed Danny out of the hospital, despite his protests. As the two arrived at his apartment, Danny was already falling asleep in the car. With a joke about whether Danny wanted him to tuck him in or not, Flack laughed and headed back to the hospital.

Hawkes had left for the lab, leaving Stella and Flack to silently watch over Mac. In a brief moment and to possibly satisfy his curiosity, Flack inquired whether they should notify the final member of their close-knit team. Stella shook her head and shrugged to answer his unvoiced question when she had told him that perhaps it would be better to tell Lindsay later, that she didn't want to heap more stress on the woman.

* * *

"Sorry man, you been here all night?" Danny looked apologetic as he walked into the break room Friday morning to get his first cup of coffee, spotting Hawkes in rumpled clothes sitting at one of the tables. 

Hawkes waved a dismissive hand. "I took a little nap awhile ago; it's fine. I got the report on the bullet and the newspaper clipping as well as Mac and Stella's Jane Doe. You okay?" he added as Danny let out a small groan and flexed his back as he sat down at the table.

"Yeah, I'm fine. My couch is not all that comfortable to sleep on." Hawkes wanted to ask why he slept on his couch when he had a perfectly good bed, but with one look at Danny, Hawkes firmly, but reluctantly, closed the door on that thought. "Whaddya' got?"

Pushing a folder Danny's way, Hawkes recited, "Let's start with the newspaper. The blood on it is an identical match to the Jane Doe of Mac and Stella's case. Unfortunately, we still don't know who she is. Her purse hasn't been found, no hits in AFIS or CODIS, and no one's filled a missing person's report. Angell flashed her picture around afterwards at the two rental offices and other nearby places, but no one knows her.

"Sid's report yielded little information. Jane Doe was shot once in the head, died instantly, followed by a shot to the heart. She was already dead when her killer started to carve her stomach."

"Who does that? And why shoot her again in the heart?" Danny wondered, his eyes scanning the pictures.

Hawkes shrugged. "Personal anger? Careful study of the carving indicates it was made with a small flat scalpel."

"Doctor's?"

"No, more like an artisan's scalpel. You know, the kind that they used to sculpt clay, a craft knife. Easily bought in any specialty art store of which there are over thirty listed in New York; there could be more. No trace found on her except a small gray synthetic fiber collected off her hair. Adam's running it now. Jane Doe showed no signs of struggle, no drugs detected in her bloodstream."

"So she was surprised by her killer or didn't see it coming."

"Stomach contents revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Some news though, is that the bullets pulled from our Jane Doe are a match to the one Mac was shot with. Unfortunately," Hawkes sighed, "it's a standard .22 long rifle caliber."

Danny suppressed another groan. It was still morning, he was still on his first cup of coffee, and already his day looked like crap. "Which is one of the most widely used common ammunition out there. Fits into numerous different rifles, handguns, you name it." He frowned. "That type of ammunition though, it's mostly used for plinking, recreational shooting, or small game, like squirrels and stuff. Why would our killer/shooter use that?"

"Low cost, minimal recoil, low noise, accuracy's good, not exceptional," Hawkes ticked off his fingers. "Not to mention that it can be fired using lightweight, easily concealable handguns and that it's widely-distributed," he pursed his lips, "I'd say it's a pretty convenient gun to pick up."

Taking a sip from his cup, Danny mused, "The range on this thing is what, 490 feet? You'd have to be pretty close to inflict some serious damage."

"Actually, I checked and if you were a good shot, you could kill a coyote at 65 yards."

"Okay yeah, but there's a big difference between a coyote and a human being." Danny got up and rinsed his cup. "The only thing we really know is that these two cases are connected. Anything else?"

Hawkes stood up. "Only that besides the blood, there's nothing else on the newspaper. The scotch-tape can be bought anywhere, no fingerprints." He picked up the folder.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Danny began walking out the door. "Let's go back to the scene. Now that we know the make of the bullet and where it entered Mac's body, we can determine exactly where it was fired."

"You searched the place thoroughly already."

Danny blew air through his lips. "Well, it's about one of the only things we've got." The two began walking towards the elevators. "What about Mac's cell phone?" Yesterday, when he'd heard that some crazy stalker was phoning his boss and friend and had been even in England, Danny's natural reaction to anybody threatening his friends was anger. And now Mac had been shot. This bastard was going down.

Pushing the elevator button, Hawkes shook his head. "Still working on it. Although, since Flack already tried, I don't know how well it'll go this time around."

* * *

It was ten in the morning when Mac opened his eyes to see Stella sleeping in a chair by his bed, loosely clutching his hand. The quiet beep of his heart monitor was the only sound in the room. Taking a moment, he let his mind recall the last events that ending up with him in the hospital. Someone had shot him. A grayish paper taped to a window with red stains. Stella's voice shouting his name. 

Lying there, Mac mentally assessed his injuries and then tried to move his hands and toes, waking up Stella in the process. He watched as her green eyes lit up.

"Hey." She stood, in rumpled blood-dried clothes, grasping his hand. Realizing that she had probably not left the hospital since he was admitted, Mac thanked her by squeezing her hand, due to the tubes in his mouth."How are you feeling?" He tried to smile around the tubes.

"The doctor said that you're going to be fine. No major damage and that you should be back to normal in a week or two." He squeezed her hand again. "The doctor said that even though you wouldn't be able to talk because of the tubes which are only there to help keep your collapsed lung expanded in order to heal, you can still write. Here." She handed him a pad of paper and a pen from the side table.

**Shooter?**

"Danny and Hawkes are still working on it. Hawkes called me earlier, but he hasn't found anything yet. No suspect has been apprehended." Stella paused. "Mac, I think it may be that person who has been calling you." She explained further as his eyes sharpened. "While you were being loaded into the EMS, your phone rang. I answered and it was him."

**Precise words.**

"'Detective Taylor's not having a good day, is he?' was what he said. I gave your phone to Angell to hand over to lab to try to find out. I know Flack already tried, Mac," Stella hurried, seeing him shake his head. "But we gotta try again, alright? Hawkes also told me that our Jane Doe may be connected to your shooting. That her killer might be the one who shot you. Danny found a newspaper article taped on a window in one of the buildings with our Jane Doe's blood on it. The article was during your internal investigation with Clay Dobson. Your picture was covered in blood." She shook her head. "He said he'd call if he got more news."

* * *

A/N: So the hunt is on for Mac's shooter! On an off-note, I want to wish everyone a MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR!! Have a happy holiday! 


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

A/N: You people thought I'd forgotten this story, haven't you:) I haven't, trust me; in fact, I've finished it, but will be posting every week or so to give me a chance to possibly write up a sequel. It's in its early stages still. Argh! Some of your reviews have been asking questions that I can't quite answer without giving away something that happens later!! Gah! Be patient! I **told** you all that I take my time building things up; am I really that slow or are you all just impatient? 'grin' Once again, the bold indicates Mac writing.

* * *

Chapter Ten 

After excusing herself to call Danny, Flack, and Hawkes, informing them that Mac was awake, alert, and doing just fine interrogating her for news on the case, Stella and Mac continued 'chatting' when she asked, "Mac, I haven't called Lindsay yet." She bit her lip, feeling bad that she hadn't called the other woman when Lindsay would assuredly want to know what happened. Stella had heard how upset she'd been during Stella's ordeal with Frankie. But it was late at night and...

Mac reassured her with a shake of his head.

**Don't. She needs to take care of other stuff. I am fine. **

Stella exhaled deeply. "But Mac, regardless, I really think - " She stopped as he held up a hand, writing.

**Stel, her parents were kidnapped by Daniel Katum who escaped on Tuesday morning. He may be accompanied by another dangerous inmate. Last I knew, there was no news. Let her be.**

Inhaling sharply, Stella raised a hand to her mouth in horror, green eyes wide with shock. "Oh my god." She sat in silent terror for her friend.

**I gave her until Sunday morning off to deal with it. She wanted to fly to Montana. **

"She must be going crazy," Stella murmured before fixing accusing eyes at her friend. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier? Lindsay must be in pain, and she's suffering alone! Mac!"

**It was a private matter, Stella. It was up to Lindsay to tell anyone. You know how she is.**

"Yeah, unfortunately. Stubborn as a mule." Stella bit her lip. "I still think I'll go over and see her today."

Mac smiled at her. **You should also get back to the lab. Find the bastard who shot me, Stel.**

* * *

When Flack met up with Danny and Hawkes in the early Friday afternoon, they both shared the same look. Discouraged, but not defeated. 

"Hey, what's with the looks, guys? Mac's fine." He smiled happily.

Danny leaned his elbows on the lighted lab table where their evidence, what little there was of it, lay scattered. "Too bad we can't say the same for the case." He looked up at his friend. "How 'bout you? Any luck with the rental office?"

"None. Nobody saw anything the day of the shooting. The receptionist at the front was away from her desk, getting coffee, and the people who work in the rented offices saw no one suspicious. The owner knew nothing and the building doesn't have any cameras. I checked the surrounding shops and came up nothing." Flack leaned against the table. "Your turn."

Hawkes adjusted the glasses he sometimes wore. "We determined by the make of the bullet where the shot was fired from. A window on the fifth floor to the right of the office on the fourth floor where the newspaper was taped. We found the bullet casing, but there were no fingerprints on it or the open window or the floor and surrounding area which is surprising considering the shooter had to be standing there for a long time. After all, he couldn't predict when the body would be found or when a CSI would show up. He wasn't even guaranteed that it would be Mac considering the newspaper and these phone calls to Mac's cell phone seems to indicate that the killer/shooter has a personal vendetta against him."

"So what?" Flack looked incredulous. "Are ya telling me this crackpot with a gun, was just waiting to shoot whomever showed up to check the body?" His mind spun at the revelation. Though it was clear that Mac was the preferred target, the killer would've just as well shot any one of them. "This guy's flippin' crazy!"

Danny sighed. He was unnerved by the lack of evidence on the case, the fact that this killer was slick, and where the hell was Lindsay? He and Hawkes had talked about her absence from the lab and he had tried to, without success, subtly grill the doctor on the bad news from Montana. Hawkes just shrugged with a gleam in his eye.

Danny dropped the subject and mentally hit himself. It didn't take a genius to figure out that whatever news that had Mac sending Lindsay home was terrible. He'd seen the first-hand aftermath. Haggard and distressed. And Danny felt like an asshole for heaping on more crap on her. Her words made sense to him now.

_"I do not need this right now. Jesus...I fucking do not need this right now."_

He wouldn't have put it past her to call in sick just to avoid him, except Danny didn't think Mac would approve of that...and Lindsay herself would never risk her job for it. So, the only conclusion he came up with was that Mac had given her additional time off to deal with whatever was happening in Montana. It had to be bad. Checking the shift board, Danny (and Hawkes), noticed that Lindsay was scheduled to work Sunday. Three and a half days off. Oh yeah, it had to be bad.

Danny tuned back into the conversation just as Hawkes was telling Flack about the synthetic gray fiber found in Jane Doe's hair. "Adam's analysis and further digging revealed that it was from the floor carpet of a car. Popular, used in almost every make and model, which proves nothing except what Stella told me she and Mac suspected earlier. That the alley was a dump site for Jane Doe. And you saw as we did, there were no car treads."

"We also couldn't find anything with the phone calls. Maybe we could put a trace on it when the guy called, but otherwise..." Danny shrugged.

"Damn." Flack slumped slightly, his expression now mirroring those of his friends when he first walked in.

"But based on evidence," Hawkes said, "we also determined that the shooter wasn't aiming for a fatal shot. We did some reconstructions. Here look."

Flack took the folder and examined the bullet, coming up with the same questions Danny had that morning. Based on the reconstruction, the distance that Mac was shot at, while powerful enough to penetrate the body, the bullet was not powerful enough to cause any further vital damage. Basically, it was a shot meant to leave the victim in reasonable pain, but not leave them in a potentially fatal condition with proper medical attention. There were over a dozen other bullets out there that could have killed Mac. "The shooter wanted to get our attention," Flack said. Jane Doe, killed by the same caliber, was shot at a much more closer distance. Much closer.

"Well, he got it," Stella announced from the doorway, her face grim. The guys exchanged a look. Whoa, angry Stella in the building. She had changed her clothes and her stiletto heels were sharp on the floor, walking over to read the files that Danny and Hawkes had collected. Flack unconsciously took a step away from her, prompting an eye-roll from Danny.

"How's Mac?" he asked, straightening up.

"The doctors removed the tubes and his lung is healing fine," she said absently, still reading. "He could be out soon, but the doctors want to keep him in just in case." Stella's brow furrowed as she set the folder down. "So we have nothing on this guy?"

The dejected slump of their shoulders answered her. She sighed and the lab lapsed into heavy silence before Danny cleared his throat.

"Hey, uh, Stel?" He licked his lips nervously and adjusted his glasses, ignoring the others' questioning looks. He could not look at her. "You wouldn't happen to know what's up with Lindsay, would you? It-it's just 'cause I-we're all worried and she's off and..." Danny took a deep breath and stared at Stella, blue eyes searching. "Is it bad?"

One look at his imploring face and Stella made a decision. _Darn it, Linds, I know you want to handle this on your own, but...Hopefully you'll thank me later_. Stella sighed and looked at Hawkes and Flack, clearly wanting to know too.

"You guys know that case back in Montana she had to testify for? Against the guy who killed her friends?" Danny nodded immediately, growing more concerned by the second, while Hawkes and Flack nodded. Danny had told Flack the gist of it, while in a moment of vulnerability, Lindsay had told Hawkes a few months after she had returned from the ordeal.

"He escaped Tuesday."

Silence reigned again.

"He and another inmate have kidnapped Lindsay's parents. No news yet." The news delivered in a low quiet voice reverberated around the room.

Danny almost doubled over, the air leaving his body with an invisible hard punch to his stomach. Lindsay...

Hawkes slowly closed his eyes in shocked dismay while Flack's mouth parted slightly in astonishment, blue eyes wide.

Stella breathed deeply. "Mac told me to leave her be for the time being, to let her deal," she continued, "but she'll be back Sunday. Just...just, let's just be there for her alright?" She looked appealingly at the group.

"Yeah, sure." Flack nodded solidly and Hawkes had a determined clench in his jaw, strength lying in his stance. Danny still looked like he'd been sucker-punched.

"Danny?" she asked. It took him a moment to come back and he looked at her before nodding and shakily saying, "yeah, yeah, sure." His eyes closed in pain, missing the team's shared worried glance. They'd already lost Mac and Lindsay; they could not afford to lose Danny too.

"Anyway, uh," Stella paused, "the only thing I can think of to do now is to look through past missing persons reports, maybe our Jane Doe has been missing for a while." Hawkes and Flack nodded. "And hey, we're all pretty exhausted and the other CSI teams seem to be handling all the other cases just fine, for now anyway. I know some of your shifts are ending soon, so I want you to clock out then and get some sleep. We'll come back at this tomorrow with fresh eyes. I'm gonna head back to the hospital to update Mac." She nodded and waved as she walked out.

AN: A slightly boring chapter, but necessary. 'shrug'


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

"Danny! Wait up!" 

Forcing himself to stop, Danny waited until Hawkes had caught up to him. He knew that his two friends would be worried when he stormed out of the lab shortly after Stella. Personally, Danny would have preferred if Flack had talked to him, snap off a reply and it was easy to get him to back off. Hawkes, though, the man had this genuinely concerned mannerism about him that Danny couldn't use the same tactics; besides, Hawkes was just too nice. Biting back a reply, he waited.

"Look Danny, it's not too hard to guess where you want to go rushing off too, but, and I'm not trying to be interfering, it's also not hard to see that something has happened between the two of you. You flinched when I talked about her yesterday, did you know? I'm taking that to mean it was bad." Hawkes stepped in front of Danny, looking earnest. "I know you're probably more worried about her than the rest of us and there's probably this urge in you to want to try and protect her from this, but Danny, I think you should ask yourself: are you really what Lindsay needs right now?"

See? Hawkes was always so sincere. It was hard to get angry at the man. And Danny knew he was right. _"I do not need this right now. Jesus...I fucking do not need this right now." _His shoulders slumped.

"Listen, I'm worried too and my shift is almost over. How about I head over to Linds' apartment and check on her? I'll call you afterwards, all right?" Hawkes must've seen some sign of agreement and he laid a comforting hand on his friend's tense shoulder. "Flack's downstairs pulling out missing persons reports, let's go meet him huh?" Danny hung his head. "Danny?"

"I'll be there in a sec, doc. There's just one thing I have to do and I'll meet you guys downstairs." Danny heard Hawkes sigh and move away, but still didn't lift his head. His worry was still there, despite acknowledging his friend's words, and he could feel the anger burning up inside him. At Katum for taking her parents. At himself for hurting her even more. At Mac and Stella for knowing and not telling him sooner. At Lindsay for not telling him when he went over that night; if he had known, then maybe, he wouldn't have told about Rikka. Danny felt the energy thrumming through him and he swiftly and without meeting anyone's eyes, made his way to the locker room, hoping it was empty.

Once inside, he slammed the side of his fist against a metal locker, uncaring of what the locker's owner would think about the small dent in it. Danny dearly wished for a punching bag, preferably with Katum's ugly mug on it right now. Alone, he let it out.

Was she home alone, waiting and suffering all this time? Clutching the phone everywhere she went, willing it to ring with news about her parents? Was she even sleeping, too afraid to close her eyes and miss a call? Or because she was afraid of what she might dream about? Flashes of her parents' accusing faces alongside those of her dead childhood friends, shouting at her for killing them all.

_Jesus...Jesus..._He paced a bit, trying to wear out the energy that always surged through his body when someone he cared about was in trouble. Danny Messer was the type to always be willing to go to bat for his friends. And Lindsay...Lindsay was more than just a friend. She may hate him now, may want to slug him at their next meeting, shout in his face, but...if there was even a slightest chance that she would want his support during this time...Danny Messer's feet would be firmly planted in her corner.

He had started this month, having lost the company of a vibrant young boy with a bright future, a friendly relationship with a neighbor had been ruined and was now steeped in both uneasiness and awkwardness, he had lost a budding relationship with a woman that he cared a lot about, had almost lost Mac, and now that same woman was threatening to be lost to him forever. Everyone at the lab had seen the spark lost in Lindsay when her past in Montana resurfaced; this time, it was her parents. If they were taken away from her in such a violent manner, would her spark be lost forever? Would she be able to recover? No more smiling brown eyes, or big country smile, or playful teasing. Despair overcame him, sweeping all the frustrated energy away, leaving him suddenly weak. Leaning against the side of a locker, he slowly slumped to the ground, cradling his head in his hands for a moment.

Unsteadily, Danny reached for his cell phone. Hawkes was right. She didn't need to see him, but...he just couldn't force himself to walk away. A hesitant thumb pressed speed dial 2 and he listened it to ring before going to her answering machine. He hadn't expected any answer.

"Hey, it's me." Danny paused and licked his lips. "You're probably wondering why I'm calling when I'm probably the last person you want to hear from. I, uh, I just heard about what you're going through and...god, Linds, I'm sorry." His voice cracked. "For your parents and for me stressing ya' out even more. Y-you didn't need that. Things have been hectic here while you've been gone, not that I'm blaming you or anything," Danny added hastily before sighing in frustration. This was not going the way he wanted. "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that if there's anything I can do, anything you want, anything you need, I-I'm here, alright? I'm still here." Danny took off his glasses, hot tears rushing to his eyes. "Look Linds, this...this isn't how I wanted to do this, but I'm sorry." His words became rushed, pouring out of him as if he was afraid to forget them. "It was never my intention to hurt you, I never wanted to make you cry. Never meant for this to happen. I did something unforgivable...and it hurts like hell. I don't know how to make it up to you, how to fix this, if I can, but...I'm still here for you. I'm still here. I still want this." He took a deep breath, still feeling inadequate. "I'll, uh, see you on Sunday. I...I miss you."

* * *

It was only a few hours later when Flack hunched deeper into the collar of his coat as he exited the building. The chill in the air signified the end of fall and the coming of winter. 

"Detective Flack," a deep voice called from somewhere to his left. Glancing around, Flack saw an unpleasant sight.

"Chief Sinclair." He nodded, mentally wondering what the political-minded bureaucrat wanted. He recalled his last conversation with the man and automatically felt distaste in his mouth.

"I heard that Detective Taylor is in the hospital. Is he all right?"

Somehow Flack didn't believe the concern in the man's eyes was genuine. "He's fine. Nothing serious. Should be back soon." His answers were clipped. Flack wasn't sure what Sinclair was fishing for, but damned if he would give something up, no matter how innocuous.

Sinclair made a thoughtful noise. "And Detective Bonasera? Where is she?"

Flack's eyes narrowed slightly. "Detective Bonasera is most likely at the hospital, making sure Mac is fine. What's this about, Chief? If you don't mind my asking."

Smiling widely, Chief Bingham Sinclair laughed lightly. "Just wanted to make sure the top forensics team in New York is doing fine. If you should see Detective Bonasera, please tell her that I wish to speak to her, would you Detective Flack? Have a good night."

Staring at the taller man as he sauntered into the building for a minute, Flack headed for home, shaking his head. This was not good.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

* * *

Sipping his coffee, Hawkes knocked again at the door. Saturday morning and here he was again, standing on the tan straw mat bearing the word 'WELCOME' in green outside Lindsay's apartment. He had kept his word to Danny and came straight here after his shift last night, recalling how it went. 

--

Hawkes fidgeted outside her door. He'd been standing out in the hallway for the past twenty minutes. There could be a thousand reasons why Lindsay wasn't answering, his logical mind stated. She could be out with friends, sleeping, taking a shower, passed out with a hang-over, or just plain ignoring him.

He had no reasonable cause for concern, no reason to give in to the urge to get the superintendent up here, key in hand, and open her door. He looked at his cell phone again and sighed. Stella was surely back at the hospital, Mac was down for the count, and Danny...Hawkes cringed. Lindsay didn't need to talk to Danny, Lindsay didn't need to see Danny...that...would just be disastrous. Possibly Chernobyl disastrous. He shook his head. Okay, that was exaggerated. He paused. He could call Flack. Laughter followed that thought.

In the end, tired and starting to attract suspicious looks from some of Lindsay's neighbors, Hawkes gave up for the night and went home, making a note to return tomorrow.

--

And here he was. Getting worried with every passing minute. _Screw it._ Hawkes turned and jogged down the stairs to the superintendent's office, only to groan in frustration. **Gone for the day** was scrawled on a small piece of paper stuck to the door. Never before had the quiet gentle doctor wanted to scream and possibly throw some things. What was he going to do now?

Looking at his watch, Hawkes knew what he had to do. He had to go to work. And with a sigh, Hawkes let himself out the front door, feet taking him to the subway.

* * *

The rest of the day, despite Stella's bolstering words Friday afternoon, held the same disappointment. Finally, with feelings of chagrin, the team was forced to place Mac's shooting and Jane Doe's murder on the back burner as crime in New York did not halt for anything or anyone. Stella and Hawkes worked on a triple homicide while Danny and Flack tackled a rape case. 

With a heads up from Flack the night before and agreeing that Chief Sinclair's appearance meant nothing but trouble for the already fragmented team, Stella did not need to appear to be busy in order to duck the inevitable conversation as she ran all over the city, trying to catch what turned out to be multiple murderers for a multiple murder. All in all, four young men ended up behind bars, being responsible for killing a colored family of three in a case of racism. Flack also took the time to update her on his and Hawkes's lack of success with the missing persons reports the day before and it was with a slight tiredness to her walk that night when Stella and the rest of the team visited a healthy-looking Mac.

After hanging around for a while, the team dispersed with Stella staying behind, expressing her feelings of hopelessness with Jane Doe.

Mac sat up against his pillows and spoke steadily with no hoarseness in his voice from the tubes. "You know the population of New York, Stel. And she's just one person. Until someone comes forward with her identity, we're stuck."

"I know. It's just..." _Her identity could be a piece of the puzzle to finding out who shot you._ Stella gave a short laugh. "Maybe I should start my own pile of case folders on my desk, huh?"

The two smiled at each other and it was with a soothed spirit that Stella left the hospital to get some sleep shortly after.

* * *

"I'm really sorry about this," Hawkes apologized once more as Mr. Atwight jingled the keys in his hand before pulling out the proper key and opening the door to Lindsay's apartment. Saturday night and third time was a charm. 

The middle-aged balding man gave an uncaring shrug. "Not a problem for an officer of the law. Ms. Monroe has always been polite, never any trouble, kept my little niece happy when my sister dropped her on me one day. I'd hate for anything to happen to her. Here you go."

Hawkes smiled. "Thanks. I won't be long."

"Take your time." Mr. Atwight handed him the keys. "Just give me them back when you're done."

Stifling the urge to raise his eyebrow at the near-carelessness of the man and deciding whether or not Mr. Atwight really trusted him or just didn't care. "Thanks," he called to Mr. Atwight's retreating back.

Hawkes shut the door. "Lindsay? Lindsay, you here?" He flipped on the lights in the dark apartment. Everything looked neat and tidy...and un-lived in. "Lindsay?" He walked the whole apartment, checking her bedroom last.

"Oh no..." he murmured as he saw her open closet door and a lot of empty hangers. A quick peek in her bathroom revealed missing personal paraphernalia and though he couldn't confirm it, Hawkes would bet that Lindsay's luggage was gone too. "Oh Lindsay, tell me you didn't." He completed his search and then sank slowly onto his missing friend's couch, his mind whirling at this new turn of events.

Reaching for the phone, Hawkes dialed Stella's number, he got her on the phone before mentally thanking Lindsay for opting to have the option of three-way calling (calling both her brothers at the same time, so that they could all share news at the same time) and phoned up Danny to join the impromptu conversation.

"Danny? Stella? Can you hear me and each other?"

"Yeah." The TV was blaring in the background. Danny's voice was rough and for the hundredth time, Hawkes worried for him. His news now would be yet another blow and he winced.

"Yes." Stella sounded tired, but otherwise fine.

Hawkes took a deep breath. "I'm at Lindsay's place."

"How is she?" The question came from Stella. Danny remained silent, but Hawkes could tell he was listening intently.

"I wouldn't know. She's not here."

"Whaddya' mean?" Danny, this time. An edge to his voice.

"I mean, she's not here," Hawkes explained. "And I've got a really bad feeling. Some of her clothes are missing, toothbrush, purse, cosmetic bag, they're all gone. I couldn't find any suitcases either." He paused. "Guys, I think Lindsay took off for Montana."

"What?" Stella exclaimed. "That's impossible. Mac ordered her not to. I heard him tell her to take some more days off, but to report on Sunday."

"Yes, well, it looks like she disregarded all that and left anyway."

"What? You saying Lindsay's gone AWOL? Don't believe it," Danny said disbelievingly.

"When was the last time anyone talked to her? I called her late Wednesday; she didn't answer."

Stella saved Danny from answering. "I think the last time she talked to anyone was Mac early Thursday morning."

After what appeared to be a slight guilty silence, Danny asked, "So, she could've been in Montana for what? Nearly the last three days?"

"Great, just great. And with Sinclair sniffing around too." _Lindsay, what were you thinking?_ Stella thought despairingly.

"I could kind of see it coming, though." Hawkes looked around the empty and cold apartment. "You didn't see her when she left on Wednesday. Shaking and eyes full of fear and dread. Mac forbidding her to be with her family, even if it was for her own good, and not be part of the search effort must've just about pushed her over the edge." He paused. "It looks like she's heading into a dark place."

"One she's heading into alone," Stella finished grimly.

Danny felt his heart break.

* * *

A/N: Mac's case seems to have hit a dead end with his shooter still out there. I know that there's not a lot of romance going on, but that's why I put this in the drama genre, duh! A lot of Hawkes in this chapter, but he is one of my favorite characters. I personally think that 3-way calling (which I have) was poorly done on my part, but in the original version of this chapter, I had Hawkes returning to work to tell them all instead of having them all at home already and now I'm too tired to rework everything, sorry. But hey! Now the rest of the team is aware that Lindsay's gone! Anyway, next chapter: we return back to Lindsay. (Finally...it's been six long chapters!) 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot.  


AN: Time to backtrack to Thursday and Lindsay. From here, my chapters are going to be bouncing between the events in New York and Montana. So as the chapters switch, I'll mention what day it is somewhere in the chapter so as not to confuse people. I apologize for the late update, been busy, and I just needed a kick in the butt to get uploading. Sorry, but enjoy!

* * *

Town scents intermingled vastly with the smells of the outdoors. Montana. A place that brought Lindsay comfort as she stepped out of the rental car she'd picked up when she had landed at Gallatin Field Airport, but also a sense of trauma and dread overlaying it. And she could trace it all back to one man.

Shutting the car door, Lindsay made her way to the front porch; gravel crunching underneath her boots. She made the right decision. While in the air, Lindsay couldn't count the number of times she had questioned her rash choice; would New York still have a place for her when this was all over? Lindsay violently shook her head, trying to rid herself of the picture of a blond-haired, blue-eyed man. _Focus, Lindsay, focus_. Holding the screen door, she knocked.

A pitter-patter of feet, a loud female voice, and the door swung open to reveal Hannah Monroe, her sister-in-law with Jessie at her heels.

"Lindsay." Hannah looked surprised for a moment before the brunette embraced her. "You didn't tell Evan you were coming! We could've prepared a room for you! Come in, come in!" The hug had a slight desperation to it.

"Aunt Lindsay!" Jessie jumped up to wrap her arms around Lindsay's stomach.

"Hey little one. Whoa though, you're not so little anymore are you?" Lindsay greeted her only niece with her special nickname. She fondly ran a hand over Jessie's silky brown hair and smiled. "How are you and things here?" She directed the question to Hannah, who smiled painfully.

"We're holding up. The whole city's behind this. We got tons of volunteers showing up everyday from other counties too. Evan makes a trip everyday to the control center that Chief Carter set up at the base of the mountain. But so far..." Hannah tried to maintain a happy face in front of her daughter.

"Yeah."

"Linds?" Her brother looked stressed and tired and if she looked hard enough, Lindsay could probably spot a few new gray hairs. "Hey. You didn't - "

"I know. My coming was a sudden decision, didn't have time to call you before I boarded the plane."

Jessie tugged on her hand. "Aunt Lindsay gonna help look for grandma and grandpa with uncle Noah too?"

Lindsay looked at Evan. "Noah's here?"

He nodded. "He's still conferring with Chief Carter. He arrived this morning. The control center is set up at the Matoskah Lodge with another post up at Deer Park Chalet." He rolled his eyes. "Mayor Bellamy issued a statement on Tuesday saying that he was 'going to put all of his effort into finding mom and dad, using all of his power and connections', but then he refused to let the police set up post at Jim Bridger Base Lodge for fear of scaring tourists." Bozeman after all, relied somewhat on tourism for economy.

Lindsay rolled her eyes and handed Jessie to Hannah, saying in a low voice as she stepped closer to Evan. "As if anyone's going to want to go up a mountain where two escaped inmates are roaming." He agreed.

"I'm just going to set up a room for you, Linds, all right?" Hannah said, ushering Jessie off.

"Yeah sure." Lindsay faced her brother and said apologetically, "I'm sorry Evan."

He frowned crossly. "What for? For this happening?" Evan shook his head. "Linds, you don't have anything to be sorry for."

"It's because of me - "

"That's a lie. You were only doing what needed to be done to put this murderer away. It's not your fault that he escaped; it's the cops that were supposed to be watching them. It's their fault. I don't blame you for mom and dad, Noah and Hannah don't either. So stop feeling so damn guilty." Evan studied his sister and gave a resigned sigh. "You're going to do what Noah wants to do, aren't you? You want to go up the mountain," he explained when Lindsay looked at him.

She shrugged. "We spent a lot of time hiking up there when we were younger. I still remember most of the paths and I'm a trained shooter. As much as I appreciate the search and rescue teams scouring out there, most of them aren't trained marksmen."

"Linds," Evan said exasperatedly. It had been like this all his life as the older brother trying to, with vexation, watch out for his younger brother and sister. He was even more vested in this as it was almost entire family wandering around the mountain.

She moved further into the familiar house, eyes carefully averted from the family pictures hanging on the wall and Lindsay seated herself on the worn brown couch in the family room. "Bill Sorell told me mostly everything I needed to know yesterday. Have there been any sightings?" she asked Evan, who had followed her.

He shook his head silently. "Although Noah could probably tell you more."

A new voice cut into the conversation. "I could, if there was anything to tell." Noah Monroe had arrived, looking tired but somewhat satisfied. "Linds." He moved into the room to wrap his little sister in a tight lasting hug.

Being only a year apart, the closer of the two Monroe siblings gathered strength from each other before drawing apart. Evan, with a soft smile, vanished to check on his own wife and daughter. The brother and sister settled on the couch and Noah began giving a more detailed report, something that came as naturally as it did for Lindsay. Being a CSI out of San Diego, California, Noah's presence went a long way to alleviating all the fear coursing through Lindsay. Her brother had this calming protective presence that, to Lindsay, had always screamed, 'I'm here now. There's no need to worry. I'll take care of everything.' In some ways, he reminded her of Mac, but with a wicked sense of humor too. He was the one she had always depended on growing up and it made him a wonderful CSI. Lindsay had not been surprised when Noah made the decision to become a forensic investigator like her; seeing the pain his sister had gone through in their younger years and then having the blow of not being able to find the bastard who did it, had rankled him too. It had been hard the first few years when Noah had gotten a post in San Diego.

"And so," Noah continued, "I spent the greater part of an hour arguing with Uncle Charlie about why I should be allowed to join a search team. He was really adamant at first, but with my charm and solid points, I wore him down." He grinned at her with his brown eyes. "The party leaves early tomorrow. Of course," he peered at her, "now that you're here, I know you'll be wanting to tag along."

Lindsay shot him a look. "'Tag along'?"

Noah leaned back and ran a hand through his brown hair that shared Lindsay's curls. "But of course, I'm the older brother and you're the little sister tag-along. Takes me back, it does."

"Little?" Lindsay arched an eyebrow. "I'm only a year younger than you, don't get cute."

Noah raised his hands. "Hey now, I'll have you know that a lot of experience can be gained in a year." Noah ducked the pillow she threw at him.

"What, that sneaking one or two of Ripley's treats wasn't such a good idea? Yeah," she snorted as Noah looked at her, surprised. "Mom told me she used to catch you trying to eat the dog food."

"Guess that explains why he is the way he is," Evan dryly commented from the doorway, holding Jessie's hand, who was dressed in pink fuzzy pajamas.

Noah threw his hands up. "Ah come on now! Where's the love?" He turned to five-year-old Jessie and smiled at her. "What about you Jess? Got anything to say to Uncle Noah?"

She looked at him solemnly with inherited Monroe brown eyes and then moved toward Lindsay. "I love you Aunt Lindsay."

Noah groaned as his brother and sister broke out into laughter. The atmosphere lightened for the first time since the tragedy had started.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot.

* * *

After scrounging around the house in preparation for their extended stay up the mountains, Lindsay and Noah with determination hugged Evan, Hannah, and Jessie goodbye with a silent promise to bring their parents back safe. A quick stop at a store to pick up extra food rations and other stuff, the sun was just hovering over the horizon, signifying a new day that Friday. 

With Noah driving Lindsay's rental car, Lindsay glanced at her cell phone, wondering if anyone had noticed her missing. Besides a single missed call from Hawkes from Wednesday, no one. She sighed, catching her brother's attention.

"You alright?"

She nodded, setting the phone to silent and shoving it into one of the many pockets of the hiking backpack. "Yeah. Just checking my messages, that's all."

Noah studied his sister. "You know, I'm surprised that you came. You're more involved in this than I am and I had a heck of a time convincing my boss. Of course, with my charm and all..."

Lindsay let a small smile slip through. Her brother hadn't changed. "Yeah well, my boss...he's a good guy." She ignored the fact that she hadn't really answered the question and that Noah knew this too.

After the short twenty minute ride, the two Monroe's pulled up at Matoskah Lodge and began taking out their gear. Being from the country and knowing this particular mountain, the two had packed supplies to last over a week. They prayed it wouldn't take longer than that.

An involuntary smile crossed her face as she caught sight of her mentor and head of the Investigative Division in Bozeman, Bill Sorrell, talking with the Chief of Police, Charles 'Charlie' Carter.

"Lindsay?" Chief Carter's eyes widened in incredulity while Bill shook his head in grudging amusement. "Oh no. **No**," he stated firmly. "You are not going up there, missy. I have a hard enough time letting your bull-headed brother go, but no. Not you. If Katum were to find out you're here..." Noah fixed a mock-hurt look on his face while Lindsay stepped up with grim determination written on her face.

"Charlie, it's not like I'm going to go up there and announce my presence with a bull-horn. None of the search parties have even encountered anything yet, who's to say we will?" she said reasonably, but her tone letting him know that he couldn't stop her. "As of right now, you should treat us as any other search party going up there. My being here could go completely unnoticed for all we know. Noah's trained, I'm trained. We know what we're doing. Those are our parents up there, Charlie, believe me, we're not about to do anything stupid or provoke them. Besides, I disagree with you. Even if we did find Katum, I could very easily be the only one to cause him to make a mistake."

"Or the only one to rile him up into a rage." Chief Carter looked obstinate.

"A rage he would solely focus on me. Seeing **my** face, knowing **I** put him away. It would more than likely get his attention off my parents, making a rescue or kill easier. Charlie, I'm going." Lindsay gave her 'uncle' a shrug before putting her pack on and walking off.

"Insubordinate, stubborn..."

Noah grinned, showing off a sparkling set of pearl-white teeth. "Watch your blood pressure there Charlie." He held off laughing as he took one of the many informational packs off the table before following his sister. The pack, really a satchel, held a radio, a map, and other things the search and rescue teams needed to know.

An unflattering remark about the Monroe progeny followed him.

Noah shook his head at Lindsay as he caught up with her near a convoy of pick-up trucks that served to transport the teams to and fro from the base control center to Deer Park Chalet, the other post further up the mountain. "You are unbelievable. Only you." He chuckled at the mulish look on her face, but was secretly hoping that Charlie would leave them alone.

"That was some show back there, you two."

Noah spun around, a broad smile on his face. "Scott! Man! It's great to see you!" Due to the pack he was wearing, Noah clapped a hand on the tall sandy blond-haired man's shoulder, his best friend all through high school and university. "Not in these particular circumstances of course, but..."

Detective Scott Sheridan of the Bozeman Patrol Division looked unchanged, still looking as handsome as ever in that rugged country sense, but looking at him, all Lindsay felt was a pang in her heart. His hair was almost nearly the shade of a certain someone. "Hey Scott."

Bottle-green eyes roved over her. "Hey Linds," he greeted softly. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead cleared his throat. "I'm in your party. Chief Carter thought it would be good to have someone responsible partnering with Noah," the two men shared a slightly mischievous grin, "and I've already been briefed. We're going to be joined by doc Cody and Will Baker, our Bridger mountain expert guide. Both are trained search and rescue volunteers." He looked over his shoulder and beckoned two people over.

Cody Morgan, son of Doctor Morgan, one of several doctors in Bozeman and an upcoming doctor himself was Evan's age, six years older than the trio. Will Baker, their trail guide, appeared to be slightly younger. They jogged over, also dressed in outdoor gear and wearing hiking packs. Their eyebrows rose at the sight of the two Monroes, Lindsay in particular. The trial, obviously, was big in Bozeman. Scott made the introductions and the newly-formed party loaded themselves into a truck. The newly-formed team got acquainted with each other as the truck drove them up the mountain.

* * *

"Alright, these gray areas have already been searched and these areas," Scott gestured, "are the ones to be searched today. After that, the search teams will continue to radiate outward and upward. As always, the helicopters will be out in full force, but it's rather hard to spot anything definite on the ground. Our designated area is here." He pointed to one are on the map fifteen minutes later. The team were at the Deer Park Chalet, poring over a map with Scott briefing them and coming up with a proposed plan. 

Noah glanced at his sister and gave a mental sigh as he saw the frown on her face. He waited.

"We should start here." She pointed to a completely different low area. "And work our way up from there."

"That's uncharted terrain," Will said confusedly.

"It's exactly what Katum and Dakin are looking for. They'll expect us to search the main area first, so why not skip it and gain more ground? Besides, this area everyone is searching in is the area that is being transformed more and more into ski trails. As a result, lots of trees are being cut and bush cleared to make runs smoother. There aren't a lot of places they could hide effectively as their situation warrants. What they want is a place that's a lot denser, full of undiscovered nooks and crannies that expert mountain guides," she looked at Will, "haven't fully explored yet. Gives them more a surviving chance. We should start on this side of the mountain because it comes out into more rural country with less traffic being seen as opposed to the I-90 on the other side. The less people they encounter, the less chance of being identified. I say we should search this area first."

"Or they could think just the opposite and be heading in this direction. If they make it out of the mountains, then they could potentially steal a car, and make it up to Helena, where they could blend into the crowd," Scott argued, not liking the proposal.

Noah shook his head. "Montana's got one of the lowest populations in the country and because of it, we're more connected than we would be say in California or New York. With all the alerts issued out on them, blending in would be next to impossible. Ordinarily I would agree with you Scott, but in this case, Katum and Dakin would want to ghost across the country with the minimum amount of contact. Montana borders three of Canada's provinces and is 60 percent prairie. It's entirely feasible to make it across the border if you keep close to the landscape and stay away from the cities and towns."

Scott sighed, thinking, before turning to the other two silent members. "What do you think?"

Cody raised his hands. "Don't ask me, I'm just a doctor. You people are the detectives."

Will shrugged. "My job is to help you with the mountain, any part of it." He paused. "But, if you ask me," he pointed to Lindsay, "she's got me convinced."

Sighing again, Scott stared at the map before finally conceding, "All right, fine, let's do it your way." He folded up the map. "I'll tell the chief." He winced and Noah smiled evilly, not enjoying his friend's plight.

Will studied the mountain he had known most of his life. "Before we start though, you should be reminded that our cell phones probably won't work where we're going. Since it's uncharted territory for the most part, there aren't any towers for our signals to bounce off."

Scott stalked off, somewhat peeved, but resigned while the others disbanded for the moment to have this new venture sink in.

Lindsay walked out of the lodge and stood on the grass, looking at the breathtaking sight o the mountains. Somewhere on this same mountain, her parents were waiting for her to rescue them. She took her cell phone out of her jacket pocket. In less than an hour, contact with the outside world would most likely be gone. She checked one more time and her brown eyes widened.

With renewed heartache, but one that was less painful and for which she thanked the distance between them, Lindsay listened to the message...and felt a few tears slip out.

He was still there. And despite everything, she missed him too.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"Chief Sinclair. We finally meet." Stella steeled her face into a carefully blank one as the man had ambushed her as she had stepped off the elevator that Sunday and was now gently leading her to Mac's office where a slender woman with flawless chocolate skin, an impeccable taste in clothes, and a very unwelcoming face awaited. Who was she? 

"Yes, Detective Bonasera, we do," Chief Sinclair answered, shutting the office door.

"Forgive me for not calling you yesterday. It was a rather hectic day." She would have told him exactly why it was hectic, but she suspected he wouldn't care and rather see it as an excuse. "I would've called you after work, but I was at the hospital."

"And how is Detective Taylor?"  
"Sitting up, voice strong and steady, and I suspect walking around his room when the doctors aren't there." Stella smiled. "You know Mac, nothing can keep him down."

Sinclair gave her a smile. "Yes, of that I'm aware. Anyway, may I introduce Detective Cherika Branco?"

Stella kept her friendly smile, even though something in her inherently disliked the woman. The woman shook her hand, but offered no smile in return.

Chief Sinclair took that moment to drop a bombshell. "While I'm sure that this lab can handle itself, I've decided to have Detective Branco here take over temporarily in Detective Taylor's stead, just until he fully recovers of course."

It was only by her quick reflexes that Stella didn't drop her smile or composure. "Ah, well, with all due respect Chief Sinclair, it's as you said, the lab can definitely handle itself until Mac's return, most likely this week. It seems rather pointless, no offense intended of course to Detective Branco, to have someone take over when they won't even hold the position for a week."

"Be that as it may, I would feel better and safer if someone with authority were here to oversee daily operations. You yourself had a rather hectic day yesterday and cannot always be here to keep track of things, Detective Bonasera. Detective Branco is here to be of help to anyone who needs it. Alright?" He smiled pleasantly at her and Stella wanted to smack him.

Her face getting tired of maintaining a friendly smile, Stella merely agreed and Chief Sinclair left to let the two women 'get to know each other'.

"Well, since the introductions are over, I guess I'll get back to my job," Stella said, making a move to leave and warn Danny and Hawkes in the process.

"Actually Detective," Branco said loudly. "I would like you to stay for a moment. There are some things that I would like to ask you." Stella turned around and gritted her teeth as she saw Branco seating herself in Mac's chair as if she owned it. She looked at the desk and then picked up a pile of folders that had Stella wanting to clench her fists. "Do you know what these are?"

Subtly taking a deep breath, Stella answered calmly, "Those are all unsolved cases that Detective Taylor keeps on his desk to remind him that there are still victims waiting to be put to rest and families still waiting for justice to be done."

Branco raised a delicate eyebrow. "Huh." She picked up the pile and carelessly put them on a side desk. "Well, there. This way, he can still see them and be reminded, but the desk will be cleaner this way too." Leaning back into the chair, the darker-haired woman flipped through some papers, as if she had forgotten Stella was still room until she spoke suddenly, "I have not yet seen one of your co-worker, a Detective Monroe. She was supposed to be here an hour ago, more to the point, you're not supposed to be here today." Dark brown eyes flicked to green ones. "Do you know where she is?"

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Stella said, "There was a mix-up with the scheduling. Lindsay and I switched off-days for today. She was informed of a family tragedy last week and she's still trying to deal with it. Suffice it to say that her mind would not be on her job, but with her family instead."

"Huh." Stella was beginning to hate that word. "And this tragedy would be?"

"Personal." The answer was short with an unspoken, 'and none of your business' added to it.

Branco looked her over and then leaned forward on the desk. "Detective Bonasera, I can already tell that you don't like me and that's fine. I'm here to do a job and so are you. The right way. I want to speak to you about your conduct these last few days as well as the rest of Mac Taylor's close-knit team. It was completely irresponsible of you to keep yourself and Detectives Messer, Hawkes, and Flack on a case that was so obviously personal. Frankly, I'll be surprised if any of the evidence you've managed to collect remains untainted. I'm not finished, Detective Bonasera," Branco raised a hand to forestall anything Stella had to say. "Furthermore, I fear this whole lab lacks a level of professionalism that if continued, may lead to the loss of some jobs because of it.

"Anyway," Branco took a deep breath, "I also wanted to speak to you about Detective Taylor's case, that I understand has been put on the back burner, so to speak, due to lack of leads. I must inform you that should the case experience a rejuvenation of any sort, you nor any of the other detectives I aforementioned will be working it. Instead, you and the others will keep a fair distance and let other, less bias, professionals take over, is that understood?" Clearly, Branco was too wrapped in her lecture to recognize the danger signs in Stella Bonasera's stiff stance, twitching hands, convulsive tick of her jaw, and more importantly, the flames rising in her eyes. All this went unnoticed in the midst of the new detective's tirade.

* * *

While talking to Adam later in the afternoon, Danny caught an unpleasant sight and quickly shielded his face with a folder. Bidding the bewildered lab tech a quick goodbye, Danny walked as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the new, albeit temporary, new head. He and Hawkes had been subjected to the mightiest tirade of anger from Stella after she had caught them off-guard and hauled them into the locker room, scaring everyone else out with a look of fire in her eyes. Danny could've sworn he saw flames rising. He knew he had nail marks on his wrist from Stella's fierce grip. She was that angry. Flack, the lucky one, had been spared from both Stella's wrath and Branco's high-handedness. For the rest of the day, Danny avoided Branco like the plague and had half a mind to avoid Stella too for sheer fear. 

The day had passed slowly and the lab didn't feel the same. If the tough-guy New Yorker could admit to being in a philosophical mood, Danny would have said that the lab held a dying atmosphere, no pun intended. Mac was still gone, Lindsay had gone AWOL...things were breaking down. Times used to be when he'd show up at the lab for a day of joking and talking with friends while running down bad guys and putting them in jail, have yourself a nice pat on the back, go home and have some fun. Now it was: work. Just work. Only to go home and sleep on his couch. For a regular Casanova, Danny had no problem sleeping in his bed, knowing that over a dozen women had shared it at one time or place, but now, he couldn't lie there at night for more than an hour. Flashes of memories would flicker beneath his closed eyelids and the familiar surge of guilt rose within. It was driving him crazy and he was starting to show it. Danny was contemplating chucking his bed and buying a new one, that, in his perfect fantasy world, would carry only the scent of Lindsay on its pillows. Strange how it never bothered him before, but he had never cheated on his girlfriend before either. And it was Lindsay too. Lindsay who, by all accounts, was in Montana frantically searching for her missing parents at that very moment. His heart panged sharply in his chest as a picture of her face, full of soft curves, button nose, brown eyes, was fixed in an expression full of fear and despair. Danny learned that Hawkes and Stella had called Lindsay to no avail, but every time his hand strayed to the phone, a giant lump rose in Danny's throat that made it hard to swallow, let alone open his mouth to deliver anything other than a trembled breath. If, by chance, he did speak, Danny knew that the words that spewed out would not be the ones that Lindsay needed to hear. Not now. And when he cleared the air, Danny wanted it to be face-to-face. It was not going to be easy. He still had mistakes to fix.

Danny stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widened. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten! Here it was Sunday already and the one of the main issues that had caused his fall-out with Lindsay hadn't been put to rest yet.

Striding to his and Lindsay's office, Danny pulled out his cell phone, dialing a number while avoiding Lindsay's desk. The chair being tucked in and the lack of paperwork scattered across the top only emphasized more the loneliness he was feeling. Would it still be Lindsay occupying that desk when she came back or would it be for someone else, someone new?

"Hello?"

"Rikka, it's Danny." He paused. "You didn't call me yet."

"Oh...right. I haven't."

Danny clenched his jaw, quelling his frustration. _She had her own problems, give her a break,_ he chanted. "So...are you?" He held his breath. A minute passed and he blew it out to ask, "Rikka?"

"I...I haven't done it yet." Her voice was quiet and was it his imagination, slightly dismissive?

"Whaddaya' mean you haven't done it yet? Don't you want to know? Don't I deserve to know?" His Italian temper exploded, almost glad to have a chance to yell at someone. He would have continued if he had not heard her break down crying. Tears. Damn it. "Rikka, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you, I just..." he exhaled noisily, running a hand through his hair.

"It's just that I'm scared, Danny," Rikka hiccuped over the phone. "I mean, this is a baby and my baby...gone...and I wouldn't know what..." She broke down into incoherency, leaving Danny feeling awkward. Luckily, Rikka managed to bring herself under control to blubber out, "I'll-I'll buy a test today and do it later tonight. Could...could you come to my apartment? You know, to lend me some support? I -I can't do this alone Danny, please."

Danny, for his part, rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. He had a bad feeling about this. This was not a good thing to agree to. But, if he didn't go, it'd make him look like such an asshole. Danny grimaced. _Ya got yourself into this mess, Messer, ya gotta get yourself out of it._ It was with a look of utmost reluctance that he agreed to meet her later that night at her apartment.

* * *

AN: 'grins evilly' On a side-note, I meant to update earlier; unfortunately, imagine my confusion coming home last Wednesay to find out my internet was disconnected. To my exasperation, I find out that the internet company made a mistake and jotted down **my **apartment number instead of my neighbor, who is moving out. The kicker: they informed me that I would not get reconnected until today! Thus, I could not post anything until now. Grrr. 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: Brother-sister bonding up ahead as well as a possible 'moment'.

* * *

This was starting to be an interesting Saturday, Lindsay thought to herself and a smile split her face for a second as she imagined someone like Flack in her current situation. 

She and others steadily and slowly walked backwards, giving the 6-foot black-haired animal lumbering in front of them its room. Cody held a small can of bear pepper spray. Will held an extra satchel in his hand, ready to throw down in order to provide a distraction if needed, but judging by the blowing and clacking of the bear's teeth, the animal was already frightened of them and he was counting on the fact that it would eventually move off on its own. The sun was rising and the bear would be wanting to take a nap. Flack would have probably already had his gun out. She could only imagine him, with some amusement, trying to play dead in a worse-case scenario attack with a bear.

The bear continued its blowing noises and then took a step forward. To the party's credit, they merely continued giving the bear its space. Finally, with a final stressful moment, the bear wandered off into the trees to their left.

In a silent unanimous response, the party automatically headed in the opposite direction.

Only when they were far enough away did Noah laugh. "Whew, that's one thing I don't miss in San Diego!"

Will looked at him. "Aren't there black bears in California too?"

"Nowhere near where I live!"

It was Saturday morning and the group were making their way up the mountain at a brisk pace, all of them more or less conditioned to this pace and terrain, growing up in the area. They were all thankful that it wasn't winter yet. For the most part, the journey was made in silence with Will leading the way, who although somewhat unfamiliar with the area, was still the best person to lead. It was shortly after a break for lunch that Noah approached his sister as they walked.

"How's it going?" His brown eyes looked at her bowed head, the sun glinting off the highlights in her hair. Noah didn't tell her, but that Friday afternoon, he had seen her crying. Something horrible had happened while his sister was still in New York. And he was aiming to find out what.

"Better once we find mom and dad."

"Yeah. But what I was really asking was: how's it going for you? You know, back in New York?"

Lindsay fell silent for a moment and kept her head bowed. Finally, she answered softly, "Fine."

"Bullshit." Noah continued bluntly as his sister shot him a startled glance that did nothing to hide a slight pain in her brown eyes. "Something happened Linds, I'm your brother, I can tell. Who were you talking to on the phone yesterday? I saw you crying."

"It's nothing."

"Was it your boss? One of your friends? Was it that guy you keep telling me about? What's his name, Danny, right?" Noah pushed until he zeroed in like the investigator he was on his sister's visible reaction to his last question. "It's Danny, isn't it? What, he break up with you? Hurt you? Guy's a bastard then. He doesn't deserve you if he's hurt you. Want me to come there and beat him up?" he asked with no sign of it being a joke on his face. The pair walked quietly for the next few minutes, Noah waiting, and Lindsay gathering strength.

When she began, it was quietly. "A few weeks ago, we got this case. A young boy had been shot, killed. It's always hard when it's a kid, you know? But, it turns out that the boy, Reuben was his name, he was really special; he lived in Danny's building and the two were really close." Lindsay gave a watery smile. Noah wrapped an arm around her, giving her comfort.

"Danny was devastated. He blamed himself for it happening. And I...I couldn't help him. More like he wouldn't let me. He was grieving, trying to handle it his way, and...he just shut me out. I didn't know what to do, so I just...waited. Tried to show him that I was there if he needed someone to lean on, but Danny always did think he could handle things like this alone. Afterwards, after the case was done and the funeral, Danny just...started avoiding me. And there I was, still having no clue what to do. If I pushed him, I was afraid he'd push me further away, but I tried not to act like a tragedy like this hadn't happened." She sighed. "It was the day Mac told me about mom and dad. He'd sent me home for the day and it was later that night that Danny stopped by. He didn't know about mom and dad. He'd come because he wanted to tell me something. I could already tell it was bad and you have no idea how many worst case scenarios were running through my head. The visit didn't last long, although it seemed like forever then." Lindsay took a deep breath. "The day that poor boy was killed...Danny slept with Reuben's mom." Noah's arm tightened around her and Lindsay hurriedly went on, "They were both so devastated and in pain and I guess..." She gave an abrupt laugh. "When he blurted it out, I went blank. I...I couldn't think, I just, just froze. We had a big fight. I was hysterical and Danny, Danny was trying to get me to understand. He then told me that she might be pregnant." Noah's eyes slid shut. "I broke it off right there and then. He looked so heartbroken and he kept trying to apologize, but I wouldn't, couldn't listen. I wasn't in any shape to deal with more bad news. Yesterday, when you saw me, I was listening to a message he'd left when he heard about mom and dad. Said he was sorry again and that...that he still wanted to be with me, that he was still there."

"God, Linds, I'm sorry." Noah kissed the top of her hair and she leaned into him.

"The funny thing is though, now that I've had time to think about it and me putting some distance between us, I can kind of understand. Not that I'm condoning it," Lindsay added. "It's just...when I remember how Danny looked, in so much pain, it's not hard to picture him not being in his right mind at the time." Lindsay sighed. "It's all so complicated."

Noah remained quiet for a moment. "I think I can understand too. Now, I can't tell you what to do, but in cases like these, there are extenuating circumstances," he said in a voice one could tell he used when thinking about a case. Remain rational and think practical. "Not that those circumstances gave him any right to do what he did, but grief can make people do crazy things. You and I see that almost everyday in our jobs. This Danny sounds like he's genuinely sorry and, I can't believe I'm saying this about the jackass who broke my baby sister's heart and I still want you to give him hell, I think the best course of action is to sit down, the two of you, and talk. For however long it takes until the air is clear. The end result might not be what you want, but you gotta' try, you know? Be open and honest with each other." He smiled down at her.

Lindsay, eyes deep with thought, nodded very slowly. "Open and honest."

"All the way."

"All the way," she repeated, looking up at him and smiling. "Thanks Noah." Lindsay gave him a tight hug.

"No problem." He returned the hug before joking, "See? That extra year of experience I was talking about came in handy today." He grunted when her fist smacked against his chest. Neither noticed their additional listener.

"Hey guys!" Will came rushing up to them, waving the map in one hand and holding the group's radio in the other. "We've got some news!"

The two Monroes snapped to attention, ears pricked with intent.

"A volunteer group found a necklace that one of the members were able to positively identify as Mrs. Monroe's tangled up in a bush about 200 miles from here in a northwesterly direction. The group's position is almost at edge of the designated search perimeter before entering this territory." He looked excited as he indicated the area on the map.

"Which essentially means that if we're correct, then Katum and Dakin were heading in this direction and that they're most likely wandering the mountain somewhere ahead of us," Cody mused, voicing everyone's thoughts. "So we are headed in the right direction."

"We just have to pick up the pace."

"But not tire ourselves out. It won't be good if we're all winded if we should spot them," Scott cautioned.

"Chief Carter has broad-casted that all teams start making their way in this direction," reported Will. With an exchange of hopeful smiles, the group moved on with renewed energy.

That hope kept the group at a brisk pace all day before Will suggested calling it for the night. No one wanted to wander around at night in the dark with not only two murderers with guns on the loose, but also bears and other wild predators. Lindsay shrugged off her pack, took a small flashlight out of her cargo-pant pocket, and began looking for small sticks to make a tiny fire, one that would not give off too much light, but adequate enough heat.

Finding plenty of tiny debris at the base of the trees, she began gathering them up when another flashlight joined hers in gathering. Turning around, she saw Scott picking up sticks too. He flashed a smile and moved to stand beside her. "You know Linds, don't take this the wrong way, but I think it's really admirable how well you're holding up. When I first heard the news, I was stunned for a good hour. I thought of you and worried about how you were handling it. I was pretty worried. People around town were in shock too. I saw at least a dozen people crying over what had happened. You...you seem nothing but determined and collected. Can't wait to show those bastards that you don't mess with Lindsay Monroe, huh?"

"Actually, I had my breakdown before I came and well, I'm pretty good at keeping up a good front," she said wryly.

A hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. "You're not alone in this Lindsay. Everyone wants to help. Chief Carter, Cody, Will, Noah...me."

Lindsay turned to look at him and saw him staring at her with longing before his eyes flicked down to her lips. Slowly, he leaned closer and Lindsay watched, almost as if in a dream, his mouth inching towards her own. In the moonlight and with blond hair, she could almost imagine that it was Danny. Danny.

Abruptly, Lindsay averted her face and stepped backwards. "Scott, I can't."

He stopped and looked searchingly at her. "Why not?" he asked quietly, face full of sadness. "Is it because of that guy in New York I heard Noah talking about? I...I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but considering what he did Linds, do you still want to be with someone like him? If you take him back...what's to stop him from doing it again?"

Lindsay scowled. "First off, whether I take him back or not is none of your business and why do I feel like your questions are personally motivated?"

Scott shoved his hands in his pockets. "That's because you know it is." His green eyes had never seemed so intense as they did when he looked at her. "You know I've liked you for a long time, Linds."

"Scott...don't do this." She looked pleadingly at him and shook her head. "Please don't do this. Not now." She scrambled to explain. "My job is in New York, that's where my life is. Even if I did feel that way about you, which I'm sorry, I don't, we would never work. It just wouldn't work." Frustrated and not wanting to deal with anything more, Lindsay walked off towards the others, seeking the comfort in numbers.

Scott sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped. He cursed under his breath and then spun around, hand on his holster, as he heard a twig snap.

"Relax, man, it's just me." Noah stepped out of the trees holding his hands up, grinning.

The blond-haired man didn't relax though. He looked at his friend. "You were listening?"

Noah shrugged. "Not to all of it. It's not a good idea to wander off too far here. Besides, despite what she might think or say, Linds is still my baby sister." Rocking back and forth on his feet, Noah said lightly, "Listen man, right now, Lindsay is pretty stressed and vulnerable. I'm not blaming you or anything, but now is not the time. I know you've liked her for a while," he grinned, "don't think I didn't realize all the time you spent over at our house was because I was your best friend." He held up his hands jokingly. "Had to admit that when I realized what was going on, I was pretty disturbed and then I wanted to lock my sister in her room whenever you came over."

Against his will, Scott chuckled.

"But...Linds is right though. You live here, she lives there. Discounting this whole Danny thing, who I still think is a punk and automatically despise for touching my sister, you heard it yourself. She just doesn't feel that way. I'm sorry."

Sighing resignedly, Scott said nothing.

* * *

AN: Next chapter, back to New York. 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

It was late Sunday night and the feeling of unease had not left Danny even as he walked up the flight of stairs to his and Rikka's apartment floor. It felt like his life was hanging in the balance and in a way it was. If Rikka was indeed pregnant, then even though he didn't feel that way about her, Danny Messer would step up to the plate and acknowledge his responsibility; if she was having a baby and if it was his, then Danny would do everything he could to provide for him or her and see that he or she had a good life. 

_If_ she was pregnant. If.

Never had such a word meant so much and been so terrifying at the same time.

Minutes later, Danny was taking a deep breath before knocking on a door he had never been afraid to knock on before. He gave Rikka a quick pained smile as she opened it and held the door for him to step through. Grief still ravaged her face and tear tracks were visible. She was a broken mother, living in an empty and too, too quiet apartment. Bracing himself, Danny expected to feel a lurch of pain at the sight of tiny reminders of Reuben scattered throughout the space, but the only sign of the young boy were smiling pictures of more joyous times and a sad smile instead crossed his lips, remembering the boy and his short happy life as opposed to Reuben's last moments the day of the tragedy when he was so unjustly taken away from loved ones. Danny much preferred to remember Reuben this way, with a happy smile, childish laugh, and innocent inquisitive personality as these pictures showed.

"I was making some pasta," Rikka said, touching his arm. "Not as good as yours, but...I thought we could eat first." She gave him a feeble smile, but her eyes remained dead. "It was the least I could do for causing more trouble and dragging you here. Please, have a seat."

Danny would have much rather liked to have Rikka do the pregnancy test now, but he didn't want to push. He took a reluctant seat, tensing as Rikka placed her hands on his shoulders, asking, "Why don't you take your jacket off and I'll hang it?"

"Ah no," Danny pushed up the bridge of his glasses. "I'm fine."

Shuffling the few feet to the kitchen, Rikka talked over her shoulder. "It's a simple fettuccine Alfredo. Reuben loved it, but always compared it to yours." Her quiet voice sounded so sad as she talked of her son.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Danny shifted in his seat at the small wooden dining table. "How are you holding up? It's a stupid question and I know everyone's been asking you that, but, well, they can't help it." He managed a small smile, but couldn't stop fiddling with his fingers under the table.

Rikka returned with two plates filled with steaming pasta. She took a seat and began twirling pasta around her fork, taking her time to answer the question for so long that Danny almost thought that she had forgotten he had asked her anything in the first place.

"These last few days have been really hard. I had to pack up all of his things, my mom wanted to help, but I didn't want her here to see me break down yet again, but it hurt so much." Her voice hitched. "I came across so many things. There was this kite that he pestered me to buy all last month, saying he wanted to fly it high up in the air in Central Park. We'd make a whole day of it; he was so excited and now, now he can't." Rikka broke down crying and Danny got up from the table to comfort her. She turned and buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing for the son she had lost so unfairly. Uncomfortable crouching on his feet, Danny guided Rikka off the dining room chair and onto the floor into a more comfortable position. She buried her face in his chest.

Danny knew the pain he had felt when he realized Reuben was gone was nothing compared to the pain Rikka felt as a mother and there was a distressed frown on his face. Laying his hands on her shaking shoulders, he waited until Rikka had calmed down before murmuring, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The words were so over-used, but it was all he had to offer.

Lifting her tear-stained face, Rikka looked at him before raising her face to his.

Unlike before, Danny immediately recoiled, shrugging out of her hold on him almost violently. Standing up and moving to get some distance, Danny held up his hands. "Rikka, we can't."

She looked at him, lost, on the floor still. "Why not?"

Feeling anger rising in him, Danny frowned at her. "We went over this. What happened that night," he closed his eyes in pain and guilt, "was a mistake. We agreed that we weren't in our right minds and that it would never happened again. It was the grief talking, Rikka, both of our grief at losing Rueben. But that's all it was. There...there was nothing else there."

Rikka got up slowly, wiping her eyes. "Wha- What if I changed my mind? I need you Danny. Please. Please, why can't we?" She made a beseeching move toward him and Danny took another step back, intent on keeping his distance. He was not going to make another mistake. Rikka looked pleadingly at him, as if wanting him to save her, asking him silently why he wouldn't help her with this?

"Changed your mind?" Danny shook his head almost disbelievingly. "This isn't something you can change your mind about, Rikka. It was a **mistake**, that's all. There's no choice in this. We can't do this." Danny's voice rose as he spoke. "I lost my girlfriend because of this, Rikka. You're a great friend, but I don't...I don't care about you in that way." He ran an agitated hand through his hair. "I may have fucked things up with my girlfriend, just like I did with a lot of things in my life, but I'm not giving up on her. I want to be with **her**, not, not you. I'm sorry." His blue eyes peered through his glasses at her. She was still grieving, still hurting, still reeling from the loss of her son, her heart. The woman on the verge of crumpling before him was lost, scared. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. But, **no**."

His voice was firm, resounding through the apartment and almost suspiciously, Danny watched as Rikka suddenly stopped moving towards him, halting at his sharp voice, dropped her head and hid her eyes. Danny had no idea what she was thinking. He didn't want to hurt her, she'd been in enough pain already, but Danny had to lay it out for her. "Look," he started. "Why don't you just take the test now and let's get this over with, alright?" His voice held a pleading note.

Still not saying a word with eyes fixed on the floor, Rikka nodded and shuffled off down the hall into the bathroom. Danny blew out an anxious breath as he waited by the door, hand repeatedly running through his disheveled hair and heart jumping. Minutes passed in the still apartment and his apprehension mounted. Judging by her behavior, Danny knew that Rikka had a lot more to work through and needed help, but not any kind he could provide.

After what seemed like eternity, Rikka emerged, holding the instrument that would decide his fate.

"Well?" Danny couldn't keep his voice from shaking. Swallowing nervously, he held his breath.

Rikka looked up at him with a blank face, gripping the white pregnancy stick. After a brief moment, she gave a tiny nod.

His heart stopped. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. Lindsay. Frantically, his eyes searched her own. Honey eyes stared back, emotionless.

Something wasn't right. The CSI in him insisted something was wrong, to check for himself, as did the panicked bachelor in him, for other reasons; a brunette fighting her own battles in another state came to mind. Rikka's face was too blank.

With a slight tremble in his voice and hoping against hope, he asked, "Can I see?" He plucked a tissue out of a nearby tissue box and held out his hand. It was a tense moment as Danny called her bluff. "Rikka, I understand that you're scared. You've lost the most important person in your life and now you're looking to cling to something or someone so you won't feel so damn lost all the time. But Rikka, please, that someone...isn't me." His hand remained stretched out.

Rikka's face remained unchanged, but he could a tiny flicker in her eyes. Her lips quivered and Danny knew he'd reached her when her shoulders slumped all of a sudden and Rikka shook her head, showing him the test and its negative indication. Danny breathed a sigh of relief, exclaiming 'oh thank God' loudly inside. He looked sadly at her. "I'm sorry Rikka."

She said nothing, looking pained and about to cry and Danny thought it was best to just leave her be. If he stayed any longer or tried to offer some comfort, she might be inclined to try something else. Without a word, not knowing what else to say that hadn't already been said, Danny helplessly let himself out. The walk back to his apartment was slow, but lighter than it had been in the past few days. This thing with Rikka was over, although he wished that it hadn't degraded into something so twisted, but to Danny, it was also another step to recovery. Now all he had to worry about was a brunette with a warm soft body, loving brown eyes, and a radiant teasing smile.

That reminded him of something else too. Stepping into his apartment, Danny's hand went to his cell phone. While still not taking his calls and being AWOL, searching for her parents, Danny was of the mind that Lindsay should know what was going on. She probably didn't care and telling her this would only remind her of his betrayal, but Danny had to tell her, if only to clear his own conscience.

He waited for her answering machine to pick up before beginning to speak.

* * *

The glower on Mac's face grew darker and darker as Stella ranted in his hospital room that late night, both in slight anger at Branco's obvious high-handedness, but also in severe disappointment in Lindsay. What **was **she thinking? She had promised him no cowboy tactics and then turns around and does just that. What's more, she had told him she would be working in the lab, **doing her job**, that Sunday; Lindsay hadn't given him her word, but it was as good as. Lindsay was knowingly committing career suicide. 

"I know you're angry with her Mac, but it's not really her fault. Not really," Stella lectured him, knowing exactly what her friend was thinking.

He glared at her, sitting up in his hospital bed. "She directly disobeyed orders, Stella. Plain and simple."

Taking his hand in hers, Stella's eyes were soft. "Her parents have been kidnapped by two murderers who won't hesitate to kill them, one with a severe grudge against her. Her heart's involved in this Mac, not her head. **That** is not plain and simple. Hardly anything that's involved with the heart and emotions is so clear-cut. While Lindsay's job is important to her, this is her life. The thought of losing her parents, like that..." Stella shook her head, unable to continue and eyes starting to glisten.

Mac stared at one of his oldest friends, heart softening, but only just. He sighed and then did something unexpected. Moving carefully, but without hesitation, Mac swung his legs off the bed, pressing the button to call a nurse.

Stella moved back, head tilted in confusion. "Mac...what are you doing?"

He looked at her with a glint in his eye. "I'm saving my CSI's ass."

A nurse scurried in and stifled a protest at the sight of Mac getting out of his bed, slowly but with no real difficulty. "Sir! Please!"

Mac barely glanced at her, shrugging a robe that Stella had brought him a few days ago. "Can you call my doctor or any doctor if he's not available?" The nurse huffed and sputtered, but left the room, muttering.

"Mac?" Stella was still lost.

He laughed at her confusion. "I'm checking myself out of here Stel," Mac grinned as her jaw dropped. "And after we make a quick stop at my house, you're driving me to the lab. There's a call I need to make."

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Four days of searching and besides finding her mother's necklace, there was nothing to show for it. Lindsay closed her eyes. She'd had a nightmare last night of her parents. Her mother crying and begging before being slapped in the face and falling to the ground. Her father trying to stand up to the two convicted killers, but in his age, easily succumbing to a hit from the butt of a rifle. Dakin threatening to kill them. Katum taunting them about ruining their daughter's life. Dirty, probably starving, cold, and most likely hurting bad. Lindsay had woken up with tears on her face. But at least her nightmare still had them alive...she shuddered, not wanting to think about the nightmares she'd be having _that_ night. 

Currently the group had stopped for a mid-morning consult and Lindsay was taking the time to scrub some dirt off with running water from a creek they had stopped near. She sighed. As much as she was a country girl, she missed New York. Missed when her life was normal. Solving cases, putting bad guys away, joking with Stella, Hawkes, Flack, Mac...Danny. Lindsay's eyes closed for a moment as she thought of the last two. How disappointed Mac must be in her now. She was slightly surprised that they hadn't gotten a transmission from Chief Carter, chewing her out for going AWOL. There were few things in life that Lindsay considered as terrible as being seen as a letdown in Mac's eyes. She was already preparing herself to be fired; what job options were available to her then? Life was still beating her down.

And Danny. Lindsay took out her cell phone, turned it on and listened to the saved message. After her talk with Noah, Lindsay oddly only felt resigned calmness as she listened. He would still be there, but would she?

A rustling behind her had Lindsay shutting off her phone and stowing it away, glancing over her shoulder as she did so. Her heart leaped. Noah was looking bleak. "What's wrong?" she asked. He said nothing as he moved to sit next to her on the grass, taking a moment to run his fingers through the cool water.

"We just got another update. Another party further up the mountain and a little off to our left encountered some trouble."

She frowned at him. "What kind of trouble?"

Noah took a deep breath. "They were shot at. One of the volunteers was hit straight in the chest. He's dead." He shook his head, the short brown curls bounced slightly. "A forest ranger."

Lindsay felt the air leave her body. "Oh my god."

Noah took her hand in his. "The party managed a retreat and no one else was hurt, despite their panic at being fired at. Thing is though, Chief Carter is being pressured to recall the teams for their own safety."

"What?!" Lindsay's voice rose in the quiet wilderness.

"Linds, look at it from his point of view. Two crazy and desperate killers with life sentences on their heads really don't have anything to lose. They're going to get riled up if we do something drastic. And most of these volunteers are just that, volunteers. Most of them aren't even trained to deal with this. I don't want anyone else to die, Linds, I really don't." He paused and added quietly, "I don't think mom and dad would want that either."

Moving restlessly at this turn of events, Lindsay stood up and began to pace. Would nothing go right? "Chief Carter's told all the parties to hold their position while it's being decided on the ground. Believe me, Linds, I want to find them too, but not if it's at the expense of everybody else." Noah and Lindsay lapsed into silence, contemplating their parents' fate before he stood up and held out a hand. "Come on, Scott's got the radio. Let' s not make him have to find us."

They could tell that a decision had already been reached by the look on Scott's face and Lindsay gripped her brother's hand tighter.

"They've called off the search."

While Noah closed his eyes in acceptance, Lindsay reacted in disbelief and anger fueled by sudden desperation. "They can't! We can't just give up." She snatched the radio from Scott. "Charlie? Charlie, are you there? Answer me Charlie!"

Crackle. "Lindsay? I'm sorry, but that's the word from the higher-ups."

"We can't just go Charlie. They've been missing for almost a week! It's even more imperative we find them." Lindsay grasped the radio desperately.

Static accompanied Chief Carter's answer. "I realize that Lindsay, but we've already got one confirmed death; I can't, in good conscience, risk more."

"Charlie, believe me, I understand about the safety of everyone searching, but what about instead of recalling everybody, recall only those that aren't trained. I mean, Noah, Scott, and I, we could handle it, we could continue - "

A crackle interrupted her. "That's a negative, Lindsay. The city council, mayor, and other authorities of surrounding counties have decided that it's just too unpredictable out there. You're at a disadvantage. Come back down. We've got people already working up alternative plans. I'm recalling all the teams and that includes you too. That's an order."

"But Charlie..." Lindsay was suddenly enveloped in her brother's warm embrace and she started bawling. Scott took the radio with tears in his own eyes while Will and Cody looked sadly at the two siblings, battling their emotions.

Noah whispered comforting noises despite the heavy lump in his throat. His eyes were glassy. He buried his face in his sister's hair and the two rocked together, shedding hopeless tears. Scott gritted his teeth and his grip threatened to break the radio, so he handed it to Cody. The two most unaffected members moved off to pack up their gear, heart heavy at the sight.

"We should get going," Noah whispered when the two broke apart. His eyes were red, but commiserating as he wiped his sister's tears.

Lindsay sniffled and tried to wipe her face clean. "I left my pack near the creek. I'll be right back." She walked off, chest hitching.

Noah gave Scott a weak smile as the blond man murmured, "We're still going to get these bastards." Walking towards his pack near Cody and Will, Noah began packing it up. The two men offered quiet support.

Packing up his stuff, Noah paid little attention to Cody and Will discussing the best route down the mountain. He shoved a package of beef jerky violently into a side pocket before buckling everything up. He looked at the two. "Are you guys ready?" After receiving nods, he turned around asking Scott and Lindsay the same question.

Neither were there.

"Lindsay? Scott?" Worried that his sister was still crying near the creek or that perhaps she was taking her grief out on Scott, he walked to the creek. Lindsay wasn't there, neither was Scott. Her pack was gone. Scott had already been wearing his. "Lindsay? Lindsay! Where are you?" A deep fear took root in his heart. "Oh god, no. Oh god, no. Lindsay!" he shouted.

No answer. Lindsay had taken off. And he would bet anything that Scott had gone off after her. Noah spun somewhat wildly, glancing all around him. "Lindsay!" The trees all looked the same and there were no tracks on the ground, no sign showing which direction they had gone.

"Lindsay!"

Noah crumpled onto the ground. His family was breaking apart.

* * *

"You're going to wear yourself out if you keep walking that fast," Scott commented, his long legs easily keeping stride with Lindsay's shorter, fast walk. 

Silence.

"Noah's going to be pissed." The two had been rapidly walking for a good half hour, plowing through bush and weaving through trees and in that time, Lindsay had said nothing. The mood was forlorn.

Wanting to lighten the mood any way he could, Scott said suddenly, "Do you remember when I took you to your prom?"

This time, Lindsay graced him with a nostalgic, but sad, look. "A couple of girls were so jealous that I had a university guy escorting me."

"I remember Noah making a crack when I showed up that you deserved much better. A second later, he, Evan, and your dad were threatening me not to do anything funny." He laughed.

"You were a perfect gentleman," she said softly.

"I had to be. All three of them were holding shot guns when they threatened me."

Her eyes softened and Lindsay opened her mouth to say something when a shot rang out over some distance. Swiveling her head in the direction where it came from, a second had not even gone by before her feet were running toward it.

"Lindsay!" Scott whispered harshly before he cursed and took off after her, hand pulling out his gun.

* * *

A/N: Short chapter. Bad day. Bad week and it's only Tuesay. I'll try to update on the weekend. Thanks to those still reviewing the story! 


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Hawkes had that patented look of disapproval that all doctors had when a patient went against orders. Crossing his arms over his chest, he shook his head at the frustrating, but nevertheless welcome sight of Mac sitting behind his desk the following Monday morning. Although Mac had done nothing but paperwork all morning with Stella all but hovering over his shoulder, the doctor in him wanted to shoo his boss off home to bed. For the fifth time that morning, Hawkes strolled into Mac's office to inquire about his health. 

Mac and Stella acknowledged his presence with a glance and noticing Mac looking a little pale, Hawkes asked, "Have you taken the pain pills Mac?" At a nod, he sighed. "I really think you should be at home, if not back at the hospital."

Mac just gave him a tired smile. After going against his doctor's orders, but in the same vein, couldn't argue as Mac had given his word to take it easy and rest whenever possible, the doctor had stood by as Mac checked himself out. Almost immediately, Mac was faced with another battle as he called Chief Sinclair and fought to reassure the man that he was fit enough to take back his office. It took a while, but knowing what kind of a dangerous man and useful ally Mac Taylor could be, Chief Sinclair gave up in the end. Mac had laughed at Stella's glee when Detective Branco did not show up that morning. "I'm fine Sheldon, if not moving a little slow. Stella has already procured a promise from me that I not leave this desk." He gestured to his desk. "I'm just doing paperwork and fixing it up."

"Thanks to that harpy of a woman," Stella started spewing out angry insults about Branco, much to Mac and Hawkes' amusement.

A knock on the glass door and Flack appeared with Angell trailing behind. "Hey, if it isn't the indestructible Mac Taylor!" he greeted jovially. "Weren't you shot last week? And here you are; skin must be made of steel." The group chuckled.

"Flack. Angell. What brings you here, besides my expense?" Mac asked.

Angell's face was grim. "We've got another body that looks like the same as our original Jane Doe. Shot in the head and heart. I'm going to need one of you." Stella and Mac exchanged looks. While checking the body last time, Mac had been shot, but according to Danny and Hawkes' findings, the shooter was willing to shoot any of them; would the killer be waiting to take another shot this time round too? As if understanding the silent question, Angell elaborated, "The body is in a private dance studio, no windows, one door, and the scene has been looked over and secured to the fullest."

Stella straightened. "I'll go and I'll call Danny. Hawkes, you stay here." The good doctor understood her silent request. Out of everyone, he was probably the best to keep watch over a still-frail Mac.

"I want you and Danny to wear bullet-proof vests just in case Stella. Don't argue with me." Mac's face was stern. "Let's not take any chances."

Nodding and a brief smile passing over her face, Stella left with Angell and Flack, who was going along since the body was surely connected to Mac's case, leaving Hawkes alone with Mac.

"They'll be all right."

"Let's hope."

* * *

Danny meanwhile, was taking the time before his shift started on the phone frantically trying to track down someone with information about Lindsay. He'd heard from Stella that Branco had been asking questions about Lindsay missing her day back at work. Stella had covered for her yesterday, but the same trick wouldn't work twice and he was beyond worried. Worried for her job, worried about her parents, and worried for her. She hadn't acknowledged his call to her, not that Danny expected her too, but Lindsay hadn't returned anyone's calls, not even Stella's. He had been put on hold three times, transferred twice, and was currently listening to some bad country music. All Danny wanted was to know what was happening. Without access to Lindsay's file or her apartment, Danny was forced to call the Bozeman PD, who thought he was a reporter and almost hanging up before Danny shouted out Lindsay's name. Taking a moment to explain that he was a co-worker and that he was worried, the police still couldn't put him in contact with someone with specific information. It seemed like everything was a mad rush over there and no one had any time to spare a few minutes to reassure some shmuck from New York. 

Danny groaned when his cell phone started ringing and seeing it was Stella on the display and knowing that it was about a case, he sighed heavily and hung up his home phone disappointedly. Damn it.

"Messer."

"Danny, meet me at 175 Clennan Avenue on the east side; we've got another body like Jane Doe's."

His eyebrows raised. A break in the case, finally something going their way. "On my way."

It took him less than half an hour to get to the place only to be immediately accosted by Flack, holding out a bullet-proof vest while wearing one himself. "You really think the shooter's here?"

His tall friend shrugged, ushering Danny into the building, blue eyes alert. "Mac doesn't want us to take a chance."

"Mac?"

"Yeah, man, he's at the office."

"Mac's back?" Danny asked incredulously as they walked up some stairs. His blue eyes took in an abnormally large number of police roaming.

"And better than ever," Flack finished the cliched line with a grin.

Walking into the room, Danny saw Stella already examining the body of a woman dressed in a red cocktail dress, appearing in her early thirties, with blonde hair and brown eyes that were open with shock.

"No ID," Stella reported as he crouched across from her. "Same M.O, but there's a different message." Stella indicated the woman's dress, shredded in the middle and revealing her carved and bloody stomach. ACCOMPLICE. She looked at Danny. "Let's start processing."

* * *

Though a man with somewhat eclectic taste in music, Mac Taylor had to admit that the country music he was forced to listen to was just plain awful. And he had been forced to listen to it for over two minutes now. He sighed and then waved to a concerned-looking Hawkes, who was once again hovering around his office. Really, while Mac could admit to some pain and discomfort, with the pain pills and as long as he did no sudden movements, he was fine. He'd been through worse in the marines.

"Detective Taylor?" a stressed-sounding man with a mid-Western accent spoke into the phone. "This is Chief Carter. Sorry for the wait, things have been hectic here. You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes Chief, I was just calling to check if Detective Monroe is there?"

Chief Carter gave a sigh of annoyance. "That infernal woman! Coming here and almost immediately causing trouble, her and that sweet-talking brother of hers. Stubbornly insisting that if I didn't let them go up the mountain to search for their parents, they'd go anyway and then when I agreed, they immediately ignore the search area designated to them, heading off into unmapped terrain. I thought sending Detective Sheridan with them would keep them in line, but no, I should have known better. And now this, deliberately disobeying orders when I recalled all the search teams..." One could imagine him shaking his head.

As he listened, Mac became more concerned. Mountain? Unmapped terrain? Recalled search teams?_ Breathe, Mac, one question at a time_. "Chief, I must confess to a bit of confusion right now. What mountain? Have there been any leads on Detective Monroe's parents?"

Silence followed by a tired chuckle. "By golly, I forgot who I was talking to! Sorry there, detective, I was just a bit frustrated. Let's start at the beginning..."

The frown on Mac's face grew and grew as Chief Carter explained the situation, causing Hawkes (hovering outside his office once more) to worry. Suppressing the urge to run a hand through his hair, Mac settled for sighing heavily. It looked like things in Montana were heating up dangerously, and Lindsay was in the thick of it. Despite his disappointment at her behavior, Mac could certainly understand her desperation; time was running out. He shuffled the papers around his desk, searching for a specific form. With slight diffidence, Mac wrote something and then signed off on it.

"Chief Carter, did you question Lindsay about her appearance in Montana? With her being so personally involved in the case and all," Mac asked when the chief finished updating him.

"Well no, I didn't really have the chance too. Girl just came and went so fast. I did think it was strange that you let her come, not only because of it being her parents, but because it was Katum too."

"What if I told you that I gave Lindsay strict orders to remain in New York during this whole search and that she deliberately disobeyed them?"

Chief Carter's response was to start spitting incoherent words furiously.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"It must be nice to be so rich that you don't have to work like normal people do," Angell snarked as she and Stella made their way into the posh high-rise. The door-man remained stoic.

Her attitude reflected the day's events so far. With their second murdered victim came some of the same disappointment. Same caliber of bullet, same method of death, same scalpel used, but no trace and no fingerprints, either on the victim or in the room. Stella, Danny, and Hawkes had debated the connection between the two words carved on each of the women. The words 'liar' and 'accomplice' indicated that their murderer had a personal grudge against the women, possibly the two had perpetrated some crime against the killer and now he or she was taking revenge.

Fortunately, this new victim had yielded some leads. The victim, wearing a fancy evening dress, had stomach contents revealing that she had eaten a fancy dinner, specific to the menus of a few restaurants, one of which was conveniently only two blocks away from the scene. Hawkes had been dispatched to that lead. Danny was focusing on the dance studio itself. Why was the victim there after hours and how had she gotten in? The owner gave up the names of those with keys to access the place, and Danny focused his attention on the night janitor, who had not clocked in the night before and was now not answering his phone. Pictures of the employee were obtained and now Danny, with Flack tagging along, was hunting him down. Which left Stella with the last lead. Focusing on the victim, her prints received a lucky hit, giving her a name. Lynn Teegan, who had a record three years ago for breaking and entering and the destroying of personal property. Her then-husband, James Hidal, had filed the charges and since then, the two had been embroiled in a bitter divorce case. A case that the death of his ex-wife would clear up neatly. Stella and Angell were on their way to question him.

Stella gave the young detective a brief smile before she knocked on the penthouse suite.

A moment later, a fresh-looking blonde, blue-eyed woman who looked barely out of her twenties answered the door. "Yes?"

Stella flashed her badge. "I'm Detective Bonasera and this is Detective Angell. We'd like to speak to a Mr. James Hidal?"

The woman looked curious, but called out, "Honey! There's some people at the door for you."

James Hidal was in his early forties with brown hair, strong build, and calculating brown eyes. He fiddled with a cigarette in his hand as he came to the door. "Yes, hello? What can I help you ladies with?"

Again, Stella introduced themselves. "Mr. Hidal, we'd like to ask you a few questions about your ex-wife, a Ms. Lynn Teegan. When was the last time you saw her?" A scowl came upon the man's face at the mention of his ex-wife.

"Not for over a month. She and that lawyer of hers were making remarks about how the settlement negotiations weren't to their liking. Again." Hidal looked angry. "Lynn was just trying to squeeze more money out of me."

"Where were you last night, Mr. Hidal, between ten and midnight?"

He frowned. "I was having dinner with my girlfriend and a couple of business associates at Herschell's and then my girlfriend and I went to Coltrane's, a late-night jazz club." Hidal gripped the door and inquired, "What's this all about, detectives?"

"Mr. Hidal, your ex-wife was found murdered yesterday." Stella and Angell watched the man's reaction carefully. Momentarily stunned, but wholly remorseless. After asking a few questions and getting less than helpful answers, Stella asked one last question, holding out a picture of their Jane Doe. "Mr. Hidal, do you know this woman?"

A flash of fear. It wasn't hard to recognize a morgue picture. James Hidal looked at the picture a second longer before shaking his head. "No. The face doesn't ring a bell. Now if that's all detectives...?" After Stella shook her head, the door shut rather quickly, leaving the two women to stare at each other knowingly.

"He knows something."

"Oh yeah."

* * *

"Just perfect," Danny said disgustedly opening the car door. "A fake address. Aren't employers supposed to check these things out before hiring people?" He got in the passenger seat. 

"They should, but don't mean they do," Flack retorted, climbing in the driver's side.

"At least we got a picture." Danny sighed, looking tired.

Flack glanced over at his friend, concerned. Danny still wasn't looking so good. The news of Lindsay going AWOL shook him up badly and he shook his head mentally. Now that Mac was back, though not in perfect shape, all that was left to worry him was Danny and Lindsay. Man, things must be rough for the Montana native right now and Flack hoped fervently that everything would turn out all right for her. She'd be devastated if anything happened to her parents and Danny would be right there alongside her. "You wanna' hit up some lunch before we head back to the office?" Danny's eyes had circles, his posture slumped, and looking somewhat sickly.

"Nah. Stella and Hawkes will want to know what we found, or rather didn't find."

Turning the ignition on, Flack's worry grew. Lindsay had better get back soon.

* * *

By the time the team had gathered, it was late Monday afternoon. Hawkes had returned with a vague description of the man that the maitre'de had given that had accompanied Lynn Teegan to her last meal and later identified him as the man in the picture Danny had obtained from the dance studio only with a goatee and not a full beard. Tired and downtrodden, Stella had sent the two to Lynn Teegan's apartment while she checked on Mac. 

"So, right now, all we have is a picture of an unidentified male, a potential past connection between Lynn Teegan and our Jane Doe, and I bet you anything that James Hidal knows something," Stella wrapped up as she stood in Mac's office minutes later. "There was definite fear in his eyes when he saw the picture. He knows who she is. But he might clam up if we push. I know, I know," she held up her hands as Mac looked at her with a slight frown, "intuition means nothing, our job is in presenting solid proof."

"Actually, while that is something I would say," Mac pointed out, "I was thinking about something else. That name, Hidal...it rings a bell in my mind that I can't quite figure out." He leaned back in his chair, giving a small grimace. "Just like when we first checked Jane Doe's body, looking at her, her face triggered something. I've seen her before and this James Hidal, I've heard of him before too." Mac's frown deepened. "I just don't know where."

* * *

A/N: On a side note, does anyone know Stella's age? I need to know for the sequel for this story. Can anyone help? 


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot

AN: A little more swearing in this chapter than usual. A thank you to **lily moonlight **for helping me with Stella's age. And thank you to the others who reviewed! Gave me warm fuzzies to know people are still enjoying the story, even with my sporadic updates. :) 

* * *

"We're nearing the area where that search party reported being shot at," Scott whispered as he and Lindsay silently drifted across the ground, moving slowly. "But I don't see anything." The two continually glanced around, but there were tons of trees, rocks, bushes...a perfect place to hide. 

Lindsay beckoned Scott over to her. "Let's leave our packs here for the moment and skirt around the area, we'll get around quicker and learn more that way."

Scott was already unbuckling his pack and hiding it in some bush. "Let's go this way and circle around." He blew out some air silently and unclipped his gun, taking the safety off. "What I wouldn't give for some extra ammunition and a bullet-proof vest right now."

As the adrenaline began rushing through their bodies, Lindsay smiled shakily. "Live for the moment, Scott." She hid her own pack and began moving, gun in hand. 

The grass swished as they moved and ducked repeatedly behind trees to maintain cover. Hopping over fallen branches, Lindsay and Scott sidestepped around bushes, diving low to avoid overhanging branches, breathing lightly with eyes and ears on alert. The two approached a small rocky clearing on an incline that ended up with a small sharp rock face at the top, a perfect place to hide ensuring that no one could sneak up on your back. It was littered with rocks of all sizes, chipped off from the large mountain by nature over time. The two exchanged a glance and paused, scanning the area carefully while laying low to the ground. The moment was filled with silence before they heard and then saw a few small rocks rolling down the small incline. Something higher up on the slope was moving. 

The two snapped to look at each other and crouched lower. 

"Bear?" Scott asked skeptically, bringing his gun up.

Lindsay gave him an almost disdainful look. "Bears usually sleep during the day, you know that." She made a few gestures indicating the need to get closer. Scott grasped her arm.

"Let me go first. Don't argue with me," he said fiercely, green eyes alive. Not waiting for her answer, he began moving slowly, making sure to have some sort of cover between him and the area where the two had heard rustling. Lindsay followed close behind, eyes pinpointed to the area, but ears straining in all directions. The two approached a rocky outcropping, but Scott stopped before, ducking behind a tree and beckoning Lindsay over. 

Ina voice lower than a whisper, he said, "The rocks will give away our advantage. Let' see if we can hear something from here to verify anything." The two tried to blend into the forest while holding their breath. Lindsay felt a twinge of impatience but knew Scott was right. Hearing rocks and gravel crunching under their feet wold have surely alerted whatever or whomever they were tracking just as surely as it had alerted them that someone was there in the first place. Straining, they heard more movement on the rocky ground, but nothing definite. 

Moving her mouth close to Scott's ear, Lindsay whispered, "We could be waiting forever for what might just be a small animal. The only way to determine if this **is** Katum and Dakin is to startle them into revealing their precise position."

Scott's breath was hot in her ear as he replied, "And potentially enter into a day-long gun fight. One we're not prepared for."

She pulled back to look at him, ignoring how close they were. "If we're ever going to get close to them, we're going to have to make some noise."

Another sound like a scrape of metal against rock. Scott sighed and frowned as he thought. He peeked out from behind the tree, scouting for a good position. Drawing Lindsay's attention, he pointed out the best position for cover. Problem was, it was a fair distance away and in leaving the wide tree they were hiding behind, the two would be open for a few long seconds. Assessing the distance, Lindsay gave him a resolute nod, her jaw set. Scott took a deep breath and counted down with his fingers. As the last finger descended, the two broke out in a full-fledged run towards their destination.

As Lindsay ran, she heard a muffled curse from somewhere ahead of them and a shot rang out, followed by another. They were close. Dust from the rocks flew up as a bullet hit the ground.

At the last few feet, in a simultaneous move, Lindsay and Scott, without a glance, dove behind the rocks. Another shot zinged off the granite surface near Lindsay's hiding spot and she reflexively hunched lower, already wincing at the small cuts she'd sustained when she dove. Though trained, Lindsay was not prepared for this. 

"Bozeman PD! Surrender now!" Scott bellowed, panting slightly. 

Laughter from higher up rang out. 

"Give it up Katum, Dakin! You're never getting off this mountain. We've already radioed for back-up!" Scott bluffed. He'd given the radio to Cody. "Give up the hostages and maybe, just maybe we could negotiate something."

The only response was more bullets flying in their direction. 

Lindsay shuffled as close as she could to Scott without exposing herself. "We could be here a while. Who knows how many ammunition boxes my father had in his gun cabinet?"

Shifting slightly, Scott replied, "Maybe we should just sit tight. People will have been bound to hear the gun shots and yelling."

"People? What people? You mean the people Charlie recalled? The people all making their way down the mountain? Those people?" Lindsay shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. 

Scott gave her a look and then said, "Desperate situations always did have a chance to bring out your sarcastic side, Linds."

Another shot had Lindsay and Scott ducking while they could hear Katum laughing. The two remained in cover, perceiving their disadvantage, not only with line of sight but with lack of abundant rounds. 

Lindsay felt chills up her spine as Katum spoke; she'd recognize his voice anywhere. "Unless you can get me a plane heading to Canada and until I'm safely hidden there, I'm not giving up anyone. You tell your bosses that, why don't ya?" He followed up his remark with another gun shot.

"Where's Dakin? Why isn't he opening his trap?"

"Maybe guarding my parents? Sneaking around to catch us by surprise while we sit here talking?"

"Or we could be wrong in our assumption that Katum and Dakin are together. Just now Katum was saying 'I', not 'we'. Making his own demands; if Dakin's up there beside him, I don't think he'd be taking that quietly," Scott theorized. "Hostages are great to have, sure, but they're also extra baggage." Scott ignored Lindsay's look as he referred to her parents as 'baggage'. "It might be just as easy to ditch the whole crew and take off on your own. The chances of getting off the mountain are the same."

Lindsay shook her head. "We can't know that for sure." She bit her lip. "But if it is just Katum up there with my parents...Let's try a distraction. I'll keep him talking, you try to go around."

"Linds, no."

"This is why I came along. No one can keep him talking longer better than I."

"This is not a good idea," Scott muttered strongly before crouching on his feet. He quietly shuffled off, rolling on the ground and diving behind other rocks, prompting more shots from the spooked convicts and Lindsay took a deep breath, gathering her courage. 

"Give it up Katum. You've already killed another, you don't need more deaths!"

A shot ricocheted off the ground nearby. "Now that wasn't me! Stupid Dakin, being all trigger-happy, stupid son of a... Besides what do I care? You can't get much worse than life in jail!" He laughed and fired off again. 

"Let the Monroes go," she called. "They're completely innocent in all this."

"Then their stupid bitch daughter should have kept her little nose outta' it! Shame I didn't kill her then too, along with her pathetic easy-picking friends; I would've gotten off scot-free. Little bitch."

Lindsay felt her temper flare. "You deserved to go to jail, you murdering bastard! Should have gotten the death penalty for killing them!"

Katum remained silent for a moment before calling out,"Now that was a mite touch of personal anger there. Who are you? A family member, friend, or - " he cut off abruptly. "Wait...I recognize your voice...I should. Hearing it across a room for weeks...you're that little upstart bitch! Little Lindsay Monroe." Katum began laughing even more maniacally. Lindsay felt an angry flush work its way up her face and she clenched her jaw as she leaned against the rocks. After containing his glee, Katum shouted, "I'm touched that you came all this way for lil' ole me."

Gripping her gun, Lindsay called back with pure hatred in her voice, "I came for my parents and to put a bullet in the forehead of lil' ole you!" Lindsay could almost imagine Scott, wherever he was, listening to their conversation and shaking his head. She was supposed to be making Katum lose control, not the other way around. 

"Now, now, no need to get all testy, little Lindsay," she gritted her teeth when he called her that, "I got your parents right here and I'm getting mighty tired holding the trigger of this shot gun. Besides, don't you want to hear all about my little visit to your beloved parents? I must admit that your mother wasn't all that welcoming, so I had to smack her around a few times. And your dad, well, he tried to play brave, but a couple hits was all he needed to shut the hell up." There was some rustling and Lindsay tensed, but then Katum started talking again, "Did you see what I did to your room? Was a bit angry with you, little Lindsay, you understand right?" Wanting desperately to close her eyes and cover her ears to block out his voice, as it was, there were tears running silently down her cheeks. Still he continued, "Like I said, shame I didn't kill you back then. I ask that you forgive me for that, but I was too busy basking in the blood of your friends. What were their names? Kelly? All I can remember are the looks on their faces, so scared." To Lindsay's disgust, Katum's voice sounded slightly dreamy. "But, since I didn't kill you, I guess I'll have to settle for your parents."

Taking a deep breath, Lindsay fought for control. _Ease up, Montana, ease up_. She began to fire back, "Is that what you're all about? Only able to feel tough when bullying old people or shooting young girls? I should have figured, you look like a coward. Tell me something Katum, do you suppose it's at all possible you suffer the Small Man syndrome? Shame you escaped from jail, you would have been well-liked there."

His answer was yet another shot, dangerously close to the ground beside her hiding spot. Katum said in a chilly voice, "You do not want to get me riled up, little Lindsay. That is something you do not want to do, for your parent's sake."

* * *

A/N: The confrontations have begun! 


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

* * *

Stella had long left to check in with Danny and Hawkes later that afternoon, leaving Mac annoyed. Hidal. James. Lynn. The names floated around his head repeatedly, but the more he thought about it, the more that niggling feeling in his mind drifted away. It left him in a mood. He leaned back in his chair and twirled a pen between his fingers, letting his eyes rove over his office and beyond the glass walls to the busy lab full of people working to solve crime in the city.

Shifting slightly and grimacing at the pain, Mac's eyes caught the pile of folders that had found their way back to their rightful place on the corner of his desk. It had been one of the things that had made Stella so angry at Branco for. The detective taking over temporarily had shown complete disregard for something both he and Stella felt was very personal, and while it had slightly irked him, Stella had been in an uproar. The folders represented victims and families still waiting for answers and justice and Branco had been dismissive of such a fact. Yet another political-minded person. As his gaze continued to fix on the folders, something clicked in his mind and he pushed his chair back, standing up. With a determined stride, Mac hit headed to the elevator; his destination was the police archives.

There was a new resolve to Mac's face, that much the team, plus Angell and Flack, could gather as they congregated in his office a short hour later. They took up comfortable positions like a small party of soldiers ready for a brief by their commanding officer.

Mac faced everyone's inquisitive faces and held up a folder, looking slightly yellowed with age.

"Jane Doe is Ashley Astbury. She was a victim in a rape case **ten** **years ago**. The case was against an Ian Boyd and for all intents and purposes seemed like an open-and-shut case. The evidence was all there, including two witnesses, a couple and friends of the victim, who unexpectedly showed up that night at her apartment and caught Boyd in the act. One of them, James Hidal, managed to subdue Boyd and police were called. The other witness was his wife at the time, Lynn Hidal." Mac shook his head and handed the old file to Stella, who glanced through it. "When Boyd was arrested, he was drunk. Given the chance to sober up, he automatically denied doing such a thing, but also admitted that everything was hazy. With the evidence saying one thing, Boyd was arrested, still protesting his innocence. He told me during the short investigation that he was being framed, by Hidal. Something about competing for a contract and while there was a substantial connection, there was no evidence."

"And boom, off Boyd goes to jail," Danny finished. He took the file from Stella and studied the pictures, sharing it with Hawkes. His blue eyes narrowed. "Height seems right. With a little more meat, a dye job, a new beard, and slap on some fake glasses...meh, it could be him."

Mac leaned back against his desk slowly. "I made a call to the prison where Boyd was sent. He's out. A lawyer managed to wring a lesser sentence a while back based on good rehabilitated behavior, along with some other concessions. Ones that Boyd promptly broke once outside."

Hawkes nodded. "The only thing on his mind was revenge."

"So do we want to splash his picture on the media?" The question came from Angell.

"We could," Stella mused, "but that might cause him to go to ground. If this is right, and it is Boyd, he's already started getting his revenge. Lynn Teegan and Ashley Astbury are dead."

"James Hidal is next," Mac finished. With his statement, Angell straightened. "I'm going to request twenty-four hour surveillance on Hidal. Station a couple plain-clothes in the lobby..." she trailed off, making notes. "If I could get access to his picture..." Hawkes nodded and he, Flack, and Angell left.

"There's just one thing, Mac. Why would Boyd shoot you? And what's the significance of calling you at 3:33?" Stella asked questioningly.

Mac unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat down. "Could be that Boyd feels a small grudge against me as well, evidenced by the newspaper clipping. I was the CSI on his case and in his mind, did nothing to help him prove his innocence. He might have wanted to hurt me for that. As to the significance of the phone calls," Mac sighed, "we'll just have to ask him when we see him." He looked at Stella and Danny. "In the meantime, you two start going over what we have. Now that we have the missing pieces, let's start putting all the evidence into context." Stella nodded, but Danny hesitated, looking as if he wanted to ask Mac something, catching the attention of the other two.

"What is it, Danny?" Mac asked questioningly.

Opening his mouth to speak and then closing it, Danny repeated the process a few times before his shoulders slumped. He shook his head resignedly and pushed up his glasses. "Never mind, Mac. It's nothing." He pulled open the door and walked off into the hallway, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking pensive and worried.

Stella and Mac exchanged looks. "Lindsay?" she asked.

"Lindsay," Mac answered. He looked concerned. "I called the Bozeman police chief. Things are looking bad out there Stella."

"Things are looking bad here too." Mac just shook his head.

* * *

Officer Keely stifled a yawn and checked his watch once more before shifting in the chair provided for him in the security room. He and the current guard, Jim, were watching the black and white images being fed through the cameras from the apartment lobby and had been for the last three hours. Keely shook his head. This was definitely one of the more boring aspects of his job. He stretched and then turned to Jim. "Hey man, you want a coffee or something?"

Jim gestured to the door. "There's a small kitchenette across the hall with a coffee-maker. Grab some sugar packets for me too."

Keely got up and nodded, smoothing out his pants. "Sure thing man."

The exchange was short, not even two minutes, but it was enough for the two to miss a man, dressed in a crisp business suit carrying a business satchel , crossing the lobby and entering the elevator.

* * *

"Honey, what's wrong?" James Hidal ignored his girlfriend's whining voice and continued to pace in his home office. His usually styled hair was disheveled from repeatedly running his hands through it and his dress shirt, once crisp, was now wrinkled and creased. "Honey?" Scowling, James grabbed his girlfriend's arm tightly and shoved her down the hallway in the apartment ignoring her protesting cries.

"Why don't you just go watch some fashion show or something, anything, just leave me alone," he barked before letting her go and storming into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Lacey Johnson rubbed her arm with an angry scowl on her pretty face. She opened her mouth to yell something, but settled for a loud huff before making her way to the living room. A knock came at the door and she let out an aggravated sigh. Her arm was really hurting and walking towards the door, she examined it. She was definitely going to have a bruise. Jamesie was going to buy her something really expensive to make it up to her. Opening the door, she had a big smile showcasing her sparkling white teeth once she saw a well-built man with blond hair standing on the other side. "Hi! Can I help you?"

"Is James home? I'm an old friend," he said in a low deep voice that accompanied by a charming smile had her swooning and opening the door wide open. "Yes, he is. Please come in. I have to warn you that he's a bit of a snit," Lacey rolled her eyes, "I have no idea why. What did you say your name was?"

"Boyd. Ian Boyd." It was the last thing she heard before a sharp violent blow to her head knocked her to the ground. It was with dispassionate eyes that Boyd watched her fall with a thud and with the gun still in his hand, he began moving. His steps became a run when he heard talking from the bedroom and he burst in through the door, gun pointed at Hidal who was cradling a phone in his hand and talking frantically. "Put the phone down now or I'll kill you. Do it, now!"


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot.

A/N: To answer your question, **cariad2003, **as to why the rest of team isn't involved with Lindsay's situation, it's because they're dealing with their own crisis back in New York. Besides, from the point Lindsay went up that mountain, there really nothing they could do. They **could **go to Montana and try to drag her back down, but as Lindsay proved a few chapters back, she's not really stable at the moment. She ditched her own brother and took off on her own when the teams were re-called. She feels this is her fault, so she alone has to fix it. It could also be that I, sadistically, want Lindsay to suffer alone. Hope that answers your question. And thanks for the review!

Thanks to the others that reviewed too! They mean a lot.

Tiny warning: Katum can be mean with his words.

* * *

The two remained silent for a moment and Lindsay was beginning to wonder about Scott.

Katum spoke up again. "Or for all you know, I could have already killed them. They were annoying, you know. All blubbering and begging. Dakin wanted to kill them straight away, but then they made good bargaining chips and then when we were force up this stupid mountain, we forced them to tell us the best way out of here. But, alas, they outlived their usefulness. And well, we had to kill them." Katum laughed wickedly. "Did you hear me? I shot your dad as he was trying to protect his wife. Went straight up to him, pointed the gun in his face and pulled the trigger. It was relatively easy for me to do. I did the same thing to your friends. Your mother was crying and I shot her in the head too. They both dropped to the ground like lumps. I imagine all that blood is going to start attracting bears and other animals. What a horrible way to die, don't you think?"

_ Words. They're just words, Linds. He's lying. Find a way to get closer. He's lying. Breathe._ Diving from her spot to the place previously occupied by a still-missing Scott, Lindsay said, "If that's true Katum, then you're a dead man. Jail's too good for you; for starters, you'd still be alive. I think I'll kill you here. I'm sure any misconduct on my part will be overlooked. No one would miss a sorry excuse of human being like you; they'd probably thank me and give me an award. I bet God was wondering what he was thinking when he created trash like you." Sticking close to the rock, Lindsay eyed the nearest rock, judging its distance and appropriate cover. "Either way, this thing ends here and there are only two options open to you: bad or worse. Take your pick."

It was only a minute later when Lindsay realized that Katum had stopped his smart-ass remarks.

Immediately, panic rose. Was he trying to pull something?

Oh no. No.

Exercising caution, she scooted around the rocks just as Scott had done, hoping that the path she was tracing had been the same as his, holding her gun up and tightly in front of her.

Katum was no longer talking. He was either up to something, had left while she was talking, or was in a position where he couldn't talk. She wasn't sure which option she would prefer.

The rocks crunched under her boots and despite the adrenaline rushing through her, Lindsay found herself on the verge of shaking. The grip on her gun was so slick with sweat from her hands that she feared she would drop it. The fear and apprehension roiling within was completely on a different level than when she was facing off against Mosi Ghedi. Then, there were tons of SWAT just waiting to storm the building along with EMS units on stand by. Here, she had no one, but Scott. And Lindsay didn't know where he was. Her parents also made this more personal than anything and emotions battled with logic for dominance, and it had been winning so far; abandoning her job, disobeying direct orders, ditching her own brother...Her brown curls flew as she ran from rock to rock. Emotion was going to get her killed. Katum's hiding spot was close and she moved even faster. A few more steps.

She could hear it. Heavy breathing. Rocks shifting under shoes.

A welcome voice.

"Give it up Katum. You're alone." Scott.

"You're not going to call your girlfriend?"

"She doesn't need any more stress. I can handle you myself." Pain lanced through Lindsay at Scott's cool voice.

She heard Katum chuckle lightly. "Ooh, listen to the tough guy, would ya? Do you really think you can kill me, boy?"

Lindsay made it around the final rock to see Scott, feet firmly planted, and gun carefully aimed at a dirty, disheveled and tired Katum, who held a shot gun returning aim. It was a stand-off. "He might not, but I will," she announced. Her voice startled Katum that he swung the gun in her direction. He was so close to her that she could smell the unwashed body stench as well as see down the barrel of the gun. His hair was disheveled and lank with grease; his body thin from lack of food. But Lindsay had no doubt that he was just as dangerous as ever.

Eyes raked over her, leering. "Well, well, little Lindsay Monroe, all grown up...and showing a lot of anger! Look at that, she's about ready to blow!" Katum's demeanor was that of a friendly tease instead of deliberate goading. He wanted her to suffer and enjoy watching it happen.

"Where are my parents?"

Katum gave a cruel smile, clearly enjoying her plight and seemingly unconcerned that two guns were trained on him. "Dead."

Lindsay's cheek ticked and she cocked her gun. "Try again. Where are my parents?"

"Lindsay," Scott said warningly, adjusting his stance. Green eyes flashed.

"Listen to your boyfriend, little Lindsay." Katum's smile deepened and his eyes were daring her. "You kill me now and well, you'll never know where I left your parents' bodies." Malice entered his eyes. "That is, if bears haven't dragged them away and the maggots haven't started nesting. It won't be long before they start rotting. You could wait to find them then; the smell is bound to start attracting people. Can't you just imagine animals feasting on their corpses?" He laughed darkly. "If I kill you and your friend here, I'll have you join them. It'll be a Monroe feast."

"Don't pay attention to him, Lindsay. I spotted a couple of good ground hollows and potholes." Scott shuffled closer. "This area also looks like it could provide good rock shelter. Your parents are most likely around the area."

"Check out that investigative skill!" Katum exclaimed mirthfully, completely unconcerned before his voice turned darker. "I wouldn't put much stock behind it though, it took you people how many years to find me? Pathetic." He hefted the shot gun higher. "Personally, I'd much rather talk about the lovely look of distress on little Lindsay's face here." He leaned toward her in a whispered conspiratorial tone. "Reminds me so much of our cherished time in the courtroom. Watching you break down like that," he chuckled maliciously, "made me smile like nothing else. The feeling of being able to cause someone so much distress and pain. Better than sex, I'd say."

Scott took another step and pressed the muzzle of his gun against Katum's head. "Shut up, just shut up."

"Is the mountain cowboy losing his cool? Don't enjoy the look on his girlfriend's face? I bet you'll love it even more when I tell her how her mother cried during our little journey together. Both of them, begging that 'things could be worked out if we released them' - " Lindsay suddenly surged up in Katum's face, pained fury in her brown eyes with her knuckles pure white against the black of her gun.

Scott watched fearfully as the three stood still, all three with a finger poised on the trigger of a gun with hearts beating rapidly. Thoughts flew around in their heads. Emotion battling logic.

It was Lindsay who broke the tableau, taking a few steps back and, to Scott's relief, a tiny bitter smile on her face while shaking her head lightly. "You're not worth it. It was a good little game you were playing, these spiteful taunts, but, that's all you have. That's all you **can** do. You've lost Katum. It doesn't matter what you do or say now; you've already lost. And me? You became a distant memory to me once and I got on with my life. You've managed to invade it again and when this is over, all I need is time to make you nothing than a bad memory once more." She scoffed, expression elated of someone experiencing an epiphany. "You're nothing, Katum, absolutely nothing." Scott smiled.

Katum's face twisted into an ugly dark glare and he bared his teeth. His eyes darkened and he started shaking angrily. "Nothing?" he spat lividly. "I'll show you nothing, you little bitch!" He pulled the trigger.

The gun shot echoed loudly in the forest.

Dust rose from the ground as bodies hit the rocks. Deep red blood pooled around, soaking into the earth and empty eyes stared up into the evening sky.

Scott lowered his gun after shooting Katum point-blank in the back of the head, adrenaline still rushing through his veins. "Lindsay?" he cried out, alarmed. His bottle-green eyes fixated on her body, lying prone on the ground a few feet away, a few tiny pebbles on the ground painted with blood. "Lindsay!" Running toward her, he sunk to his knees beside her and gently turned her over. "Lindsay? Oh god, Lindsay, please answer me."

She groaned and Scott nearly wept with relief. Rolling over completely on her back, Lindsay let out another groan and gazed up at Scott, disoriented. Her hand reached up to clasp around her left arm, over her bloody wound. "Katum?" she gasped out.

"Dead." He moved closer and touched her hand. "Let me see how bad the damage is, Linds." With another pain-filled groan, Scott pried away her already bloody hand and with an apologetic look, started to tear the fabric of her jacket and shirt away from the wound. As quickly as he could, he examined the bloody area and let out a breath. "Looks like the bullet just grazed you. I can't be certain but it looks like it took a chunk of skin and maybe some muscle, but didn't penetrate deeper." Ripping up the bottom of his hiking shirt, Scott fixed up a temporary bandage, securing it tightly. "We'll have to get it cleaned and stitched up soon." He sighed. "Man, I wish Cody were here."

Lindsay gave a shaking laugh. "Me too. Along with being the doctor, he's the one with the radio!" Scott joined in laughing, though neither found it particularly funny. The recent events were just catching up to them and emotions were running high. Sobering up, Lindsay, with Scott's help and a lot pain racing through her, sat up. She quietly looked at Katum's dead body, as if trying to find peace in the death of a man who had haunted her for so long. A touch on her thigh brought her back and her brown eyes bored into his. "This isn't over yet. We have to find my parents. And Dakin."

"Lindsay, maybe you should..." he sighed as she shot him a look. "All right, fine. But we have to do something about him too." He gestured to the dead body. "The scent of blood is going to attract animals. Our first priority is to find shelter and preferably any ammunition boxes Katum stole to protect ourselves. Come on," he helped groaning Lindsay to her feet. "It's going to be evening soon. I say we look up there first." Scott pointed upwards to the top of the small rocky incline.

"We need to let everyone know what happened." Lindsay winced as she moved her left arm. "And since we don't have a radio, we can only hope that our cell phones work." With her good arm, she pulled hers out of her jacket pocket and looked at the bars. "No range."

Scott sighed. "With you injured, I think it's best if I try heading in the direction of the Bridger ski slopes. There's a ski patrol station situated near the edge of each side. All I need is to get within range of a tower and call the chief. But first, let's find your parents and get situated. Keep your fingers crossed that we get out of here before night falls. We should build a fire too," Scott suggested. "Hopefully, the smoke rising will attract some attention. In the best case scenario, if I do manage to get a signal with this," he patted one of his jacket pockets where his own cell phone resided, "the fire will signal our position." He looked at her lightly. "I don't suppose you know anything about smoke signals?"

She laughed shortly. "My country education isn't that good." The two continued moving in the direction Scott indicated, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary in the forested area. Scott picking up small branches as they went.

Finally, the two came upon what appeared to be an abandoned bear shelter near the top of the rocky incline which incidentally gave them a good view of anything approaching them. It went a bit deep and Lindsay, stubbornly insisting that suffering from a flesh wound did not mean she was a complete invalid, checked to see if the shelter was indeed empty.

Beaming a small flashlight around, she huffed, "Honestly Scott, you seem to forget that my training is just as good as - " Her eyes caught sight of something and she cried out. "Mom! Dad!" Forgetting everything, Lindsay rushed to their side, crying, "I was so worried! Oh mom, dad," she touched her father who was sitting against a wall and froze as she watched him, like watching a horror movie in slow motion, topple to the side, hand thudding to the dirt, lifelessly.

Lindsay's hands flew to her mouth in fear.

Tears rushed to her face, blurring her vision as her eyes flicked to the still body of her mother. Tears could not block out the sight of a wide bloody stain on her mother's shirt. Could not block out the gaping hole in her mother's stomach, dried blood already caking the edges of the fabric. Her mother's eyes were open. An exact replica of her own eyes. Dull brown pupils stared blankly at the opposite wall from a dirty, scratched face and brown and white curls in disarray.

Lindsay stumbled back with her hand still clamped over her mouth. Small clouds of dirt floated up from her sudden movement. Her eyes as big as saucers full of disbelief, fear, and pain; so much pain. A keening cry erupted from her throat as she looked back at her father. She could see it now. A nasty bloody gash on the back of his head. They were motionless. So still.

No. No, no, no, **NO**!

"Lindsay!" Scott ran toward her. "Lindsay, what is it?" He stopped the moment he saw Anne and Dale Monroe, dead. "Jesus...God, no. Oh god, no." He covered his mouth, adding his horror to Lindsay's as she wailed in despair. He stared at the bodies before shakily reaching out a hand to feel for pulses, a fervent hope against hope that one of them, _oh please_, was still alive.

His eyes welled up when he felt nothing.

Collapsing onto the ground beside a hysterical Lindsay, Scott felt the world slip out from under him.

They were gone.

They had **failed**.

Shaking his head in disbelief, a mental chant took up in his head. _This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to end this way. Not this way. They were supposed to be alive. We were supposed to rescue them. Keep them safe. This wasn't supposed to happen. _An anguished cry interrupted his denial and Scott watched somewhat disconnected from it all as Lindsay threw herself onto her parents' bodies, clutching them tightly to her, and began rocking, sobbing out incoherent words. He knew he should be doing something; they were still on the mountain, away from civilization and they had to let everyone know. Know that, despite everyone's best efforts, Dale and Anne Monroe were...gone. Scott closed his eyes. Oh god, Noah...Evan...Lindsay.

Opening his eyes again, Lindsay was still in a state of agony and shock...and Scott decided to let her be. A call still had to be made, as did a fire. Their packs were still hidden. Dakin was still out there somewhere and Katum's body...Scott wanted to leave it where it was. The murderer didn't deserve anything else. There was still so much to do, but seeing the tragedy before him...Scott felt too weary to move.

He'd give himself a few moments to grieve.

He needed that much.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I did it. I had to.

* * *


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot.

First off, thank you for all the reviews! I found it funny that I got so many 'OMG's' in response! Yes, Lindsay's having the worst week, but this story is winding down with only a few more chapters left; there are only a few things to wrap up. So again, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed and stay tuned for the sequel!

* * *

It was a tense atmosphere when Mac and Stella stepped off the elevator of James Hidal's apartment level and saw a dozen cops standing in the hallway, reassuring other occupants, guarding the apartment door of Hidal, making radio calls, and otherwise contributing to the uneasy mood. Making their way to the door, the two got their guns ready, but didn't draw them. The officers moved aside and Mac and Stella made their way inside which, if it was even possible, had more police jammed inside.

Catching Flack's eye as they drew closer to the commotion, seemingly centered in the bedroom, Mac got his first glimpse of the man who had possibly shot him. Ian Boyd was looking like a changed man from what Mac had remembered ten years ago. At the moment, he was holding a terrified James Hidal in a loose choke hold with a gun to his head. Hidal's girlfriend had been taken out, distraught, and checked over by EMS units still outside. Ian Boyd looked oddly calm for a condemned man with no less than four guns pointed in his direction. He had refused to talk to Flack after making his demand and everyone was waiting for Mac to enter the room, as he did now. The response was immediate. Boyd's eyes fixed on him and a sardonic smile flashed briefly on his face. "Detective Taylor, it's been awhile." Boyd ignored everyone else in the room, concentrating all his attention on Mac. "Do you remember me?"

Revealing his hands to show he was carrying nothing, Mac chanced a step closer. Boyd didn't seem to notice or care; focusing all his attention on a conversation he was intent on having. "Ian Boyd, right? I was the CSI on your case ten years ago."

Boyd nodded bitterly. "Yeah, you were. Some help you were," he scoffed. He jammed the gun harder against Hidal's temple, causing a wince. "That's when this deceiver deceived you all. He framed me, got you all thinking I raped that girl, that liar." Boyd's eyes flashed. "And you believed him. You all did. But they were lying, all of them."

Mac held up his hands, recognizing Boyd's jittery posture. "I remember you saying that. You said something about a competition for a contract." Mac kept his voice calm. "Why don't you tell me more about that?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Boyd said, "It was a contract that was guaranteed to change the life of whomever won it. Money. Lots of it. There were hundreds of proposals, applicants, but the bosses, they liked mine; they even said so. James here was another that they liked." Boyd shook the man roughly, prompting those armed in the room to raise their guns. "The associates said that they were going to pick a proposal after the weekend. I was so psyched. My head was filled with all these plans for my daughter and I." He smiled sadly. "I was going to enroll her in special art classes. Ever since she could, Cassie loved drawing. Her room was filled with crayon and chalk drawings." Boyd's face shifted in a split-second from dreamy to anger as he shook Hidal again. "And he had to take it all from me. He framed me! Just to get me out of a competition that he might have won anyway! He and that bitch wife of his and their little friend." He ground the gun in deeper against Hidal's temple. "Tell them! Tell the good CSI man here, New York's finest, what you did to me!"

"I-I don't - "

"Don't lie to me!" Boyd shouted furiously. "Don't lie! You took away me life! Took away my daughter! Don't fucking lie to me!"

"Ian," Mac tried to soothe the suddenly enraged man. "Ian, calm down, alright? You said they framed you. How did they do that?"

Boyd breathed heavily for a moment and then jerked his chin in the direction of the bed. There was a small gym bag sitting on the floor at the foot of it. "Look in there. I got confessions from them both. The accomplice and the liar. Right before I killed them." He snorted. "They didn't even recognize me. Me, the man they ruined the life of while they went on with their own lives. Go on, look." Boyd continued as Mac cautiously placed the bag on the bed and unzipped it, taking out small cassettes and a tape recorder. "I have to admit that I couldn't really remember much, but I do know that I did not rape that liar. She started talking to me in a bar, I had a few drinks, and we got into a cab. I meant to drop her off at her home and then go home to Cassie; she was with a babysitter and it was my job to tuck her in every night. It started getting hazy there and I don't remember! But, but I got the truth out of that liar. It wasn't hard to track her down. A phone book and pretending to be a long lost high school friend was all it took. She slipped something into my drink at the bar. Took me back to her place instead and staged it to look like I was raping her.

"And then it was planned that the deceiver and accomplice would walk in and collaborate her story. All because they were greedy for money. I know." Boyd nodded his head unstably, a crazy glint in his eye. "The accomplice confessed it to me before I killed her. I taped their confessions. She wasn't hard to find. A scorned woman with an on-going divorce settlement battle. All she needed was a little male attention and consolation." He laughed hysterically. "I gave her that! It probably wasn't the attention she wanted! And now, now all I need is the last confession to make it complete."

Mac frowned. "And what about me Ian? That was you who shot me, wasn't it? Do you want a confession from me too?"

Boyd gave him a confused frown. "From you? No, no, noooo. I was angry at you too. You, who's supposed to look for the truth, didn't help me, even when I **told** you the truth. You had to suffer too. But not so much as the others. That, that was just a warning; a way of me telling you that I blamed you too, just a bit. To show you that 'New York's finest' can be wrong too."

"And the phone calls? What was the significance of calling me at 3:33? And how did you find me in England?"

The confused frown deepened. "What are you talking about? I never called you. I don't know anything about England." Mac, Stella, and Flack, being the only ones in the know-how, exchanged puzzled glances when Boyd blew up again, "Stop it! Stop it right now!" He suddenly tightened his hold on Hidal, choking the man and pointed the gun directly at Mac. "Y-you're trying to confuse me. I know you are! Stop it!" He brought the gun back to Hidal's head. "I won't hesitate to kill him, you know. I've already done it twice."

Mac maintained steady eye-contact, his hands still raised. "I'm not trying to confuse you Ian, I promise. I made a false assumption, that's all. " He paused. "What is that you want Ian? You want Mr. Hidal here to pay for what he's done to you? I can promise you that he will."

"No. I want his confession, like that the other two." He started to shout in Hidal's ear as the man began turning purple. "I want him to admit what he did to me!" Boyd loosened his grip, letting the man's greedily gulp some air.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Hidal wheezed, ignoring the warning in Mac's eyes. "Y-you're craz-zy. I've n-never met you before." Everyone in the room knew the moment Boyd snapped and tried to do something when the man screamed psychotically, "Don't. You. Lie. To. Me!" He pulled the trigger. Blood splattered all over and James Hidal went down, dead.

Flack responded by shooting Boyd in the leg in an effort to subdue him. Boyd dropped the gun and collapsed on the floor letting the police swarm all over him. He looked up at Mac, all semblance of anger gone. It was an eerie sight to behold. "I just wanted him to admit that he'd done wrong against me," he pleaded softly. "I just wanted him to say it...He took my life away. I just wanted him to know."

Mac felt drained, looking at the man before Stella pulled him out of the way for the paramedics. He avoided Boyd's eyes and let Stella guide him out of the apartment. They leaned against the car and let the events of the day wash over them.

"Hey Mac? There's something that still worries me."

He looked at her.

"Ian Boyd didn't have a clue about the 3:33 calls." Stella's brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. "That means that he's still out there."

"What makes it even more concerning, Stella, is that he was watching us that day," he stated.

The two lapsed into silence. And it was only Monday.

* * *

A/N: That wraps that up. I know most of you were expecting more from Lindsay's fall-out, but that will be the next chapter. I just had to tie this up first. Thanks for reading!


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot.

Thanks again for the very informative reviews; I love reading them.

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For a place where quiet was enforced, the hospital had too many sounds.

The constant beep of monitors, squeaking of beds being wheeled, IV stands rolling around, sheets stretching as nurses replaced them, and the murmuring.

It was constant.

Lindsay sat, prone and unresponsive for the most part, in the main hospital of Bozeman, listening to the murmurs of everyone. She was able to block everything else out, people's questions about what happened, Evan asking her exactly how she found them, impersonal faces asking the same question over and over: was she all right? Lindsay could block it all out, but not the tiny muted, indistinguishable murmurs and it irked her. This was a hospital. Couldn't they shut the hell up?

Lying on a hospital bed, she wanted to curl up, cover her ears, and close her eyes.

See nothing, hear nothing, know nothing.

Block out her parents' faces and her own screams, they were dead, they were gone. Katum's taunts; she had told him that it didn't matter what he had said, but that was still back when she had hope. Even as he died, Katum had managed to take something from her.

She wanted to be left alone, but the minute she and Scott had entered the hospital, there had been questions, though she was barely aware of anything. People pulling at her, demanding answers; their voices were so loud and their faces were so close. Couldn't they see she was in pain? Couldn't they leave her alone? Lindsay barely registered that Scott was most likely going through the same thing nor did she recognize that half-way being mobbed, her brothers with grim and warning faces had escorted her safely to the quieter confines of the hospital.

But there were still murmurs there too. They were everywhere. How was that possible?

Lindsay almost welcomed the pain as the doctor cleaned and bandaged her grazed arm, along with numerous cuts and scratches from the rocks. She just curled up on the bed afterwards, eyes open and unblinking.

She didn't notice Noah sitting in the lone chair in her room. Didn't notice his brown eyes, rimmed with red, skimming the patches of dried blood on her skin from where she cradled her mom and dad tightly to her chest, begging them to come back. She was a traumatized empty shell, just like when she was younger, when she ended up being the lone survivor of a heartless massacre. Ironic that it was the same hospital.

Noah's heart broke even more as he continued to gaze at his broken sister. Unlike Evan, he had caught more than a glimpse at his parents' bodies. That sight followed by his obviously catatonic sister made him want to bury his face in despair.

Why did tragedies always hit his family? Lindsay in particular. She was strong, he knew that, but she wasn't invulnerable. He was afraid she would never recover and when he had heard from Chief Carter that Lindsay had gone against orders to come to Montana, Noah knew Lindsay's troubles were not over.

Though her eyes were open and he was in her line of vision, Noah suspected that she wasn't seeing anything. The doctor had said that besides her minor gun shot wound and scratches she'd sustained along with lack of food, Lindsay was fine.

Physically, at least. Emotionally? The doctor had shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

Scott, to the best of Noah's knowledge, was doing fine and was not as troubled as Lindsay. It was from him that everyone had gotten the whole story.

It was with a heavy heart and a growing numbness and detachment that Scott had forced himself to get up. By the time, he had retrieved their packs, Katum's dead body, and built a fire, night had started to approach. Unwilling to leave Lindsay who had stopped her rocking, but maintained her tiny whimpers of agony and fierce grip on her dead parents, Scott was forced to wait until the first of morning's light to make the journey to a place where he could use their cell phones, leaving Lindsay to stand guard against nature's predators.

He wasn't sure if she had heard him, but it had taken him a good two hours of running and walking before the bars on his cell phone reached a full two. Scott counted himself lucky that by the time he had finished a very static-y call to Chief Carter and made it back to her, Lindsay had not moved and nothing with sharp teeth had wandered by.

Fanning the fire as their only means of signaling, it had taken the rescue helicopters a while to find them and then transport the entire party to the base of the mountain before zipping them straight off to the hospital.

Lindsay and Scott to hospital beds, Anna and Dale Monroe, along with Daniel Katum, to the morgue. Lindsay had to be pried from her parents; her grip tight, unwilling to be separated. The doctors nearly had to sedate her, for fear that she would break out of her shock and into full-blown hysteria.

Wiping at his tired eyes, Noah stood up and made his way over to his sister, gently running a hand over her hair. Pain and misery spread through him. Nearing the age of thirty, Lindsay looked more like a small child than a grown woman.

"Noah." Her voice was hoarse and scratchy.

In an instant, Noah was kneeling beside Lindsay's bed, one comforting hand still running over her unkempt hair while another clasped her hand. "I'm here Linds. I'm here." His own voice was croaked. He could not hide the tears that ran down his face, that had been running since the end of this whole tragedy.

Her eyes blinked and Noah could tell she was coming back to herself, out of her self-imposed coma. She stared at him for a minute before her face crumpled. "I'm sorry, Noah, I'm so sorry." She began crying and Noah gathered her in his arms, quietly reassuring her and eerily reminded that this was the last scene played out before she and Scott had disappeared on him.

"I-I don't want to be here Noah," Lindsay sobbed out before burying her face in his chest and murmuring, "I want to go home."

His heart lurched for a moment.

Where was home for Lindsay? Going to their parents' ranch would be a disaster. Did she mean back to New York? He wasn't so sure about her reception there. Noah settled the debate by merely saying, "We'll go to Evan's house alright? You fine to leave here?" Personally, he thought Lindsay was going to be needing some professional help, but the doctor said she was fine physically. A tiny nod and sniffle answered him. "Well then, why don't you change into the clothes that Hannah dropped off. She would've been here, but Jessie had to go to school and all. Said she'd come back later. And well, Evan is...taking care of a few things," he hedged, knowing that the oldest and most reliable of the Monroe children had been given the heartbreaking task of dealing with their parents. He got up, Lindsay reluctant to let go, and handed her a bag of clothes. "You change, Linds, and I'll talk to your doctor about checking you out." He tucked a curl that had lost its shine and bounce behind her ear. "I'll be right back."

When he returned along with the doctor, Lindsay was dressed and standing docilely by the door, clutching the bag tightly in both arms to her chest like a shield and keeping her eyes glued to the floor wanting to avoid any commiserative looks from the nurses. Her face was blank. The doctor had a disapproving look. "Ms. Monroe, I highly think that you should stay here for a few more days, to recover both physically and emotionally. We have many resident specialists and - "

"No," she cut him off softly. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor and she shuffled closer to Noah, as if seeking protection. "I want to go."

Noah wrapped an arm around his sister after giving the old doctor an apologetic look. "Let's head back to Evan's, huh?" he said quietly, opening the door as they made their way out of the hospital only to be confronted with Chief Carter and a few reporters.

As the flashing of the cameras began, the shouted questions, the microphones and tape recorders shoved in their faces, Noah cursed himself for not checking if anyone was waiting. He sent a dangerous scowl to the reporters beginning to flock around them, not the least bit considerate as he pushed his way, keeping a sheltering grip on Lindsay, who cowered in his arms, burying her face in his shoulders and covering her ears from the noise. Chief Carter popped on her other side, helping to guide the two to the car, but not without letting his own issues out.

"Missy, of all the stupid stunts to pull! First you go against your superior's orders and then mine?" Chief Carter shook his head. "That deserves at least a suspension for your cowboy tactics - "

"Charlie," Noah interrupted somewhat angrily. "Stop it. Look at her, would you?" His voice trembled slightly, upset at life's refusal for a reprieve for Lindsay. He glanced down at his sister, who stared unseeingly straight ahead. "I don't think she cares, much less hears you right now. Just save it, would you?" He didn't wait for a response, but continued to guide his sister to rental car that was still checked out in Lindsay's name. Tucking her into the car and besides a few calls, the drive was silent.

It was only when the two had firmly settled on the couch in Evan's house did Lindsay speak. Her voice was quiet and subdued, hitching in parts, especially when she asked about what was being done for their parents.

Noah draped at arm around Lindsay, holding her close, taking care to avoid her bandaged arm. "Evan and I...mom and dad's wills should sort things out. The entire town is helping out preparing for...the funeral, which Evan and I decided to be held tomorrow morning. Mom and dad...the doctors determined that they were...gone...two days ago." He looked down at her. "Time of death was Sunday, Linds; there was nothing you or anyone could've done yesterday." With a lump in his throat, he continued, "Without Katum or Dakin, we'll never really know what happened. Scott told us what Katum said and comparing it to the wounds, it was clear he was lying. Trying to rile you up. Scott told me what you said up there to Katum about him being nothing. I'm proud of you Linds."

"We'll never know..." she murmured, plucking at her jeans somberly. She would never know what exactly happened. Why her parents were killed in the first place and who had pulled the trigger. Without Katum or Dakin, **she would never know**. The thought did not sit well.

"There is still a search out for Dakin.." The two stopped talking when they heard the front door slam, followed by heavy footfalls. "Noah? Linds?" Evan called out.

"We're in here," Noah answered back. The final member of the Monroe siblings entered the room looking tired, but still strong as ever. He eyed the two and without hesitation, crossed over to take a seat on the couch, squashing Lindsay in the middle. Evan took her hand in his and the three drew comfort in each other's presence.

Running a hand through his hair, Evan announced quietly, "The mass for the funeral starts at eight tomorrow morning. It'll be short and closed casket." The bodies of their parents had been cleaned, prepped to wear their Sunday best, but it would be impossible for Lindsay to look at her parents without seeing the gunshot wounds.

They fell into silence again until Lindsay whispered reluctantly, "I need to call my boss." Her brothers nodded, having been told that she had gone AWOL, much to their utter surprise. Evan handed her the phone, uncaring of the long-distance charges. "I guess we'll leave you alone then."

She didn't let go and only snuggled deeper in the security of her older brothers. "Stay. I need you here." Bearing in mind the time difference, Lindsay felt it was better to call his cell phone instead of the office. After a few minutes, a familiar voice that brought both comfort and dread answered, "Taylor."

A brief pause. "Mac, it's Lindsay." She sounded so tired, her voice never rising above a whisper. She had screamed and wailed her voice dry in that cave. Her voice had given up on her, just like everything else in her. "I know it's not enough, but, I'm sorry."

She could tell Mac was a bit unprepared. He probably would have preferred to do this face to face. "I am disappointed in you Lindsay," she flinched, "but, I would be lying if I pretended not to understand what you're going through. This is something that we need to discuss when you return to New York." He paused. "I gather by the fact that you called that the search is making some headway?"

"It's...over." Lindsay squeezed her eyes shut and took a shuddering breath. "They're dead Mac." Her voice cracked. She could feel herself crumbling. "They're dead. I...I couldn't..." Hot tears began slipping down her face, streaking her already tear-stained face and she struggled not to choke.

Mac's voice was soft and steady, cutting through the anguish welling up inside her. "Lindsay, listen to me. It's not your fault. It's not. I want you to remember that." He took a deep breath. "Work through it Lindsay, and heal. It will take time, but I know you can do it. Deal with this and I'll see you back in New York soon Lindsay."

She couldn't stop the small hitch in her voice. "T-thanks Mac. I'll uh, I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Take care Lindsay." Mac hung up and though his words were sympathetic, Lindsay was still uncertain what the future in terms if her job held. She hung up the phone and handed it back to Evan. Swiping at her tears, Lindsay buried her face in her hands and let her brothers comfort her, soothing her with their words and ignoring the hitching in their own voices.

"I need to get back to New York. I took off against orders, after all."

Evan ran a hand through her hair, concerned. "So soon? Lindsay, are you sure you should be doing that?"

She shook her head, lifting her face. "I...I have to get back. I'm pushing it already." _There's still stuff I have to take care of; people I need to see._ Lindsay reached out to grip her older brother's hand. "I'm sorry for just dumping this on you, Evan."

He shook her apology away and pulled her into a tight hug. "It's fine; you've been through too much already. I'll take care of it." He released her and she felt Noah hug her from the other side.

"Are you sure you'll be fine? If you want, I can fly there too." Lindsay managed a weak smile at their protectiveness. Turning to Noah, she said, "You need to get back to your job too. Maybe not as soon as me, but eventually." She took a deep determined breath. "I can do this alone."

The two nodded, sadness hanging over their heads before Noah broke it, "Well, let's go book you a flight, Linds."

* * *

"_Hey, it's me again. I know you don't want to keep hearing from me and I'm only stressing you out. But I had to tell you, if only to let you know, that she's not pregnant."_ Pause. _"That probably hurt you more instead of relieving you, but I don't know how else to say it, Linds. I'm trying not to make things even worse, but it seems like all I do is bring bad news. I, uh, hope everything's going fine out there and I bet you're making Katum wish that he had stayed in jail. Everyone here is thinking of you."_ There was silence on the line for a moment. _"I wish I could be there to help you get through this, even if you wouldn't want me there. Still though...you're not alone. Me, Stella, Hawkes, Mac...we're all just a phone call away. I miss you."_

Her hand hovered over her cell phone. It all seemed so long ago. The hurt from his transgression had changed, morphed, and been taken over by the pain of the realization that her parents were gone. Thanksgiving and Christmas were holidays Lindsay had always looked forward to, though she couldn't always make it back to Montana. She would always call. Or they would always call her. She'd never hear their voices again. Who would she talk to without her mom?

Lindsay wasn't sure if she was ready to face Danny, but then again, everything was numb, including her feelings for him. Still though, she remembered the comfort that he had brought and her talk with Noah had forced her to think, really think. Danny was sorry. And he had shown that he wasn't going anywhere. Danny was still there, he was waiting. She sat on the bed in her brother's guest room in complete darkness, exhausted, but not wanting to go to sleep for the nightmares she knew would come, thinking.

It was her move, so to speak. Her hand began dialing.

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A/N: In case any of you are confused, Danny's message is the one he made to Lindsay way back in chapter seventeen and she's only hearing it now. Anyone else excited about the new episode?! Finally!


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot

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The sky was dark gray and somber.

A fitting mood for a funeral as Lindsay stood next to her brothers watching the polished wooden caskets descend into the ground. Nearly the entire town of Bozeman was standing silent behind her in the last moments that the Monroe children had with their parents before they were buried.

_Anna Monroe. Dale Monroe. Loving mother. Loving father. Dearly missed by those that loved them._ The inscriptions on their headstones were short, but poignant.

After being lowered and flowers tossed, everyone made to leave although the majority stayed, gravitating toward the three siblings, causing Lindsay to cringe away. She didn't want to hear how sorry anyone was. No one could be more sorry than she was, could feel as much pain as she did, not even Noah or Evan.

A familiar bulk walked into her vision with blond hair and green eyes. "Hey," she whispered as Scott approached her. Noah and Evan were fielding the rest of the town offering their condolences. Her eyes roved over his face, finding tiny scratches and cuts on him that were almost identical to the ones on her own.

He shuffled closer to her. "I heard from Noah that you're leaving this afternoon, to go back to New York. I think you're crazy, but...I never did fully understand you, Lindsay Monroe." He reached out a hand and cupped her cheek, lifting her face. His green eyes searched hers. "With everything we've gone through, I feel like it's made us closer, but at the same time, I'm still losing you, even if I didn't have you in the first place." He licked his lips, looking pained. "I do care about you Lindsay, but...I'm fine if it's just as a friend. I'm here for you, no matter what. Even when you get back to that big city of yours, if you need me..." With slight hesitation, he leaned over and kissed her softly on her cheek. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

Lindsay grabbed his hand as he pulled away. "Thank you Scott, for everything." Her eyes were sincere. "And I promise, I won't be a stranger. I owe you so much." He nodded once, sharply, before moving over to Noah. Tears rose to her eyes and she glanced back at her parents' tombstones. _I love you mom, dad. I'm so sorry._

* * *

An hour later, Lindsay, still dressed in mourning black, set aside her traveling bag and turned to her brothers at the airport. She took a deep breath, taking in her surroundings before musing, "It seems that the only reason I come back here recently, is to deal with problems. But you know what? Even with everything that's happened, I still have so many other memories and I would much rather remember those than anything else."

Evan wrapped her in a hug, minding her injury. "Good girl," he murmured. "Don't forget to call if you need anything. Take care of your arm too." He released her into Noah's waiting arms. "Same goes for me too, Linds. Like for instance, if you need me to beat up anyone, it's no trouble. And if worse comes to worst, there's a spot for you on west coast, although I'll have superiority and all – oof. " He was relieved to see her smile, even if it was a small one and didn't reach quite reach her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too." Lindsay let go and grabbed her carry-on, hearing the announcement over the public speaker. "I'll let you know when I get settled in."

It was with heaviness in her feet and heart that Lindsay walked away from the comfort of her brothers and boarded the plane alone, feeling uncertain and anxious. Sitting in her designated seat, she fidgeted, unable to stay still. She was an adult and only she could solve her problems, but all Lindsay wanted to do was curl up on her bed and hide in her apartment. The plane prepared to take off and as it lifted off the ground, leaving the Montana landscape behind, Lindsay dearly wished that she could do the same for her problems and pain too. Shame life didn't work that way.

--

Then again, New York presented its own set of problems for her and as she waited for a free cab at the curb with her luggage, they all came rushing back to Lindsay. She sighed. If there ever was a time when life was testing her, this whole month was it. So much had happened, so much had changed, in so little time. Lindsay knew that she was not the same person who had left New York and that though she had her family's support, it would be nice to have her friends at her back. The message Danny had left and Mac's words had given her hope, but at the same time, the last thing Lindsay wanted was sympathetic looks and the constant repeated question of whether she was fine or variations there of. That is, she contemplated as she got into a cab, if she still had a job, a place there with them. To that end, Lindsay gave the cab driver her address. She would drop off her bags and head straight to the lab. Lindsay just wanted this all to be over.

She had garnered some looks from people when she walked into the building and up to the lab, but they were probably wondering where she had been all this time, a full week gone. She hadn't run into any of the team and part of her was thankful.

Stepping off the elevator, Lindsay could see Mac standing in his office and she took a deep breath. There was no point putting the discussion off any longer. Striding along the hallway, she knocked quietly on the glass door, watching Mac's surprised expression. Clearly he wasn't expecting her to return to New York so soon. He beckoned her in and she soon stood just inside his office, slightly rigid but mostly resigned to her fate. Lindsay had, after all, brought this on herself.

She could feel Mac's eyes on her, cataloging the tiredness in her face, the tiny scratch marks and cuts on her face, neck, and hands, the beaten stance and black ensemble, resigned shoulder slump, and her eyes. Gone was the rich spark of happiness and excitement and replaced by misery and suffering. It radiated off her in waves. She looked like she had already been broken and pushed over the edge and was now just lying crumpled on the ground, taking the beatings life was giving her.

All the fight had left her.

"I didn't expect you back so soon," he commented, carefully staying away from asking how she was. She looked frail enough as it was. "I thought you would want to stay a while."

"The funeral was this morning and my brothers are taking care of my parents' property. I thought it would be best if I returned as quickly as I could, there's still stuff I need to take care of." Her voice was subdued. There was no inflection in her tone and she just stood there, offering no further information.

Mac nodded, his concern mounting. He headed to his desk.

Lindsay's eyes narrowed as she observed her boss moving slowly to his desk. "Mac, are you alright?"

"I got shot last week, Thursday in fact." He sat down in his office chair.

"You too? Man, this has been a rough week." She elaborated at his questioning glance, gesturing at her left arm. "Minor, dodged a bullet up close that took some skin and a bit of muscle." Her lips quirked. "As long as I don't try to lift anything really heavy, I'll be fine."

"You sure?" Lindsay nodded solemnly. The pain from her wound was nothing compared to the loss of her parents. "Very well. I've given some thought to this Lindsay and I am disappointed in you. When I gave you an order, I expected you to follow it, despite any personal feelings. I was doing it for your own good and you instead took matters into your own hands. I'm very sorry for your loss and for what happened, but things could have always become worse. You dodged a bullet Lindsay, that might not have been the case. I don't know the particulars of what occurred, but some of your actions were completely irresponsible and downright reckless. You endangered yourself and others around you while leaving still more people worried and concerned. During your time here, you've become an invaluable team member, but there have been times when you've lost control and now with this, it's got me concerned about how you'll react in the future. I would like to know that you won't go off half-cocked the next time something tragic happens." Mac sighed, eying Lindsay's silent, but defeated stance; one he attributed not to his lecture, though he was certain she was listening, but to everything that had happened in Montana.

He had called Chief Carter again that morning, wanting to know what to expect when it came to his employee's emotional state and was told that she had been the one to find her parents' bodies and that Lindsay had been in a catatonic state while in the hospital. "A part of me wants to suspend you Lindsay, but taking in everything and because I do care about what happens to you, I'm putting you on probation. For the next couple of weeks, you are restricted to the lab working on evidence that the rest of the team bring to you as well as any other back cases. I am also taking you off the promotion grid and a formal reprimand is going into your written file. I also want you to set up an appointment with the departmental psychiatrist as well."

He waited for her to argue with him on the last point, but Lindsay just stood there with a dead look in her eyes and knew his CSI had a long way to go. He wanted to send her straight home, but had the feeling that doing so would only make her worse, Being alone with her thoughts would not be good; as much as he hated to admit it, Mac thought that this was one time where keeping Lindsay busy would do her more good. Besides, Stella was in the lab somewhere and Mac was hoping that Lindsay might be more receptive to opening up to the other woman rather than him. "Are you feeling up to getting back to work right now?"

Lindsay looked at him with pain and sadness lurking in her eyes, but also determination and lucidity. "Stella is in the lab somewhere; she's working on a robbery by herself. You can help her with the evidence." Mac wanted Lindsay to completely steer clear of any murder cases if he could help it until he could be assured that she could handle it. Lindsay nodded and turned to walk out when he called out, "Lindsay? I'm sorry and it's good to have you back." She graced him with a quick lifeless smile and left, leaving him to sigh once more.

* * *

AN: One more major issue to deal with and that being Danny and Lindsay's confrontation. Next chapter! Thanks for the reviews!


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot.

A/N: After such anticipation and so many reviews about this particular chapter, you have no idea how many times I've read, re-edited, and reviewed this thing, wanting to make it perfect for readers. I'm not completely satisfied; I doubt I ever will be. I hope you enjoy reading though and only one more chapter of this story left.

* * *

Blue eyes widened and then Danny hid a grimace. What was she doing here? After their last meeting, Danny didn't think that she would want to see him again and a spike of fear rose in him at the thought that perhaps his words that night had not gotten through to her.

Rikka straightened from the wall as he made his way to his apartment. "Hi." She tucked her hair behind one ear.

Gracing her with a nod, Danny gave her a look that plainly asked what she was doing there.

"I, um, just wanted to let you know that...I'm moving out." She nodded to herself. "I found a place closer to my parents." She waited to see if he was going to say anything, but Danny kept his face blank and her shoulders slumped. "I just, just wanted to say that I'm sorry for everything. And that I hope, one day, that we can somehow gain back our friendship, Danny. I really am sorry." She gave him a smile that he gave a nod to, still wary of any tricks. Rikka inhaled. "Well, I'll see you around then, maybe."

Wanting to just get away from her, Danny shoved his key into the door, quickly opening it and walking inside, seeking the safety of his place. Flipping on the light and throwing his mail down, Danny rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. All he wanted now was a beer, pizza, and news, any news, on Lindsay. He shrugged off his jacket and headed to his kitchen, pressing the flashing button on his answering machine as he went, intent on grabbing a cold beer.

He halted as he heard his only message, straightening and swiveling around to bore his eyes into the machine, hanging on every word being said.

_"I don't know why I'm calling you, I really don't. Maybe because it's late, I'm tired and not thinking straight. Maybe it's because my world has just collapsed, I feel like I'm drowning and I need to hold onto something. Maybe I just need to hear a familiar voice and you are that, if nothing else and despite everything. _

_"I don't know what to do about you, about me, about...us. It's confusing, trying to muddle my way through after I've fallen so far. I hurt, I'm upset, but when I'm here, it all seems like a dull ache inside my chest when I think about you and I have, more than I wanted to, more than I should these past few days. We need to talk, Danny. This isn't something that's going to go away. Can't ignore it. Can't forget. We still have to work together; let's not destroy that too. We have to talk. I'll be back in New York by tomorrow."_

The time stamp indicated when it was recorded and quickly taking in the time difference, Danny's heart skipped erratically. She was here; Lindsay was back in New York. His breathing quickened and he was almost certain that he would start hyperventilating any moment now. The somewhat ragged breaths seemed harsh and loud in his now too-quiet apartment.

She wanted to talk.

She **wanted** to talk.

Abandoning everything, Danny snatched his keys and bolted for the door. The tiredness that plagued him not ten minutes ago vanished as his blood sped up, rushing through his veins. She was back. Back in New York. Back, a large part of him selfishly declared, where she belonged. He just had to convince her to give him a second chance. His mind raced as he took the stairs two at a time, thinking and going over words, explanations, heartfelt declarations, that he could say to her, to show her how much he still wanted to be with her.

Almost tripping over a carpet in the entrance-way, Danny jogged down the block to the subway station, resisting the urge to break out into a full-fledged run; his heart was already pounding too fast. As it was, he dodged and weaved through other people outside, hurriedly apologizing for knocking against a few shoulders. Giving up on the subway, too impatient to want to stand still for more than a second, Danny flagged down a cab and hurriedly gave Lindsay's address. Words still ran around in his mind, wanting to make what he said perfect.

Predictably, his nerves began to desert him as the cab pulled in front of Lindsay's apartment. It was with shaky hands that he paid the driver and got out, small hesitant steps that took him up a familiar route. He recalled the last time he was here and he almost choked at the emotions filling up inside. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure about this. Suddenly he had doubts. Lots of doubts. Normal women would not take their boyfriend back if they did what he did. Lindsay was not a normal woman; she was so much more, which made her reaction that much harder to predict.

His feet led him to her door and Danny could see an image of his past self leaning, slumped and defeated, on the wall beside Lindsay's door. The perfect picture of despair. Would he look like that again tonight, this night, after talking to her? He prayed to God he wouldn't. He just had to make her listen, understand.

Danny visibly calmed himself. The shallow gulps of air didn't seem to be filling up his lungs. He swallowed audibly once, twice, feeling like a pimply teenager waiting to pick up his first date. His hands clenched once, twice. He rubbed the back of his neck and Danny idly wondered how long he was going to stand here. Lindsay would be in a less agreeable mood if he woke her up.

He steeled himself and lifted an anxious fist to rap once, twice on the barrier that separated him and Lindsay. Unable to hide his slightly heaving chest, Danny waited.

A minute dragged by, then two. Silence permeated around him and slowly, ever so slowly, Danny's shoulders began to slump. Maybe she was sleeping. Or not even here. Maybe -

The door knob twisted and a face that Danny had been longing to see so badly appeared him before him.

The swirl of apprehensive emotions disappeared, replaced by concern.

She looked so broken.

And he nearly crumpled then and there.

Concern heightened within Danny as he let his eyes rove over her. Cuts and scratches littered her hands and one or two on her cheek. She looked shattered and weary. A white bandage was wrapped comfortably around her upper arm and he had to ask, almost croaking out, "What happened?"

Lindsay shrugged one shoulder, splaying her hands out, palm-side up. "Rocks. Sharp rocks." Her voice was so dull and his fears were realized. What she had gone through in Montana had robbed her, stolen away the light, took away what made Lindsay her. Mechanically, she touched her arm. "Bullet graze."

Reaching out, almost hesitantly, with gentle fingers, Danny lifted her chin to peer searchingly into her eyes. "Your parents?"

Lindsay's reaction was instant. Brown eyes watered and filled with tears while her lips trembled, trying to maintain her composure, but couldn't even manage more than a small head-shake before her shoulders started to shake.

Cursing himself softly for feeling the need to confirm what he already knew to be true, Danny stepped forward and wound his arms around her, drawing her comfortingly against his chest. His hands rubbed her back soothingly even as he felt her tense against him; he hadn't forgotten the reason why he came here in the first place. Laying his cheek against her hair, he said quietly, "I know there's still this issue between us and I know you're still upset with me, a lot, but just for this moment, Lindsay, can we just put it aside and let me be here for you? Let me comfort you, please."

The body-wracking sobs came then.

Her cries for her now-gone parents were full of anger and agony. Future memories that Lindsay and her brothers would make that her parents would now never see and take part in. Danny's arms were vise-like around her as Lindsay's tears soaked his shirt and he didn't bother to try to move, instead closing the door and sinking onto the floor, unshed tears glimmered in his own eyes, listening to the woman in his arms.

Her fingers convulsively clutched at his shirt, wrinkling it, but Danny could care less. It was hard to believe that everything had happened in a week, but their lives had been irrevocably changed; their lives were more battered than before. Danny closed his eyes, feeling a few tears slip down his own cheeks and one hand came up to cradle Lindsay's head securely against his chest, as if wanting to protect her from any more pain. It had only been a week and she had been through more than enough. More than enough.

He wanted to say something, anything, to give her comfort, but in the next instant, Lindsay was already pulling away, standing, leaving his arms feeling empty and his body cold. The action made a few more tears slip out and he viciously dashed them away.

Sniffling and rubbing at her face with a nearby tissue, Lindsay's voice was hoarse as she asked, "Why are you here?"

His eyes flinched as he stood. "I got your message," Danny's hands twitched and shook, fighting the urge to brush the tears off her wet cheeks. "I didn't think you would be back so soon. But I'm relieved though, I...I was worried. A lot." He paused, hands fisting by his side. "I-I came to talk, like you said...but, maybe...we should wait a bit, you know, until - " he stopped at her head-shake.

"No." She stared at him with red-rimmed eyes, brown eyes still glassy and Danny felt like she was searching his soul. "I-I need to do this. **We** need to do this. I already talked to Mac and I'm back at work tomorrow; we...we need to get this over with." She brought her arms up and hugged herself, causing Danny to wish he could do that same action for her, but, like a piercing stab inside, realizing that **he** was the one causing her to do it in the first place. Lindsay was gathering enough strength to stand there and face him, to talk to him, to bring some resolution to her life.

In a move repetitively like last time, silence descended upon them. Like emotions of misery and sadness floated in the still air. But, unlike last time, hope also lingered. Hope for a potential new start.

Danny began, eyes swimming with longing. "Is there still any chance for us?"

Feeling so conflicted at the sight of the man who caused her to feel so much, good and bad, Lindsay had no idea what to say. She shook her head helplessly.

Danny ran a hand through his hair and in an abrupt move, he shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it on the back of a chair. "Look Linds, I...I know I messed things up a-and I don't know what else to say, to tell you that I haven't already said." Pleading leeched into his voice as he gave his piss-poor declaration. "It was a mistake. I can't take it back, any of it. My actions, the pain, hurt I've caused you, the trust I've broken, but...Sorry isn't enough, but it **is** all I have to offer you. I'll - I'm leaving it to you, but, Lindsay...I want to be with you, I want this to work. All I'm asking is for a second chance. To be with you, to be in your life and to have you share mine. You may not want to forgive me, may not be able to get over what I did and I'll understand." He winced. He would understand, but in the process, that understanding would break him. "But I just can't, I won't...I refuse to let it end like this if I can help it.

"When I'm with you Linds, I...I like it. You make me feel things that...This thing we have, had," he winced, "it's something wonderful, something special...I don't - don't want to lose it. I've never..." Danny exhaled noisily, frustrated that he couldn't express exactly what he wanted to say. Who could in such a situation? Words often failed at the most important times.

Lindsay averted her face and turned her back on him. Danny's heart clenched at that simple motion. He could see her taking deep breaths that did nothing to hide the shaking of her shoulders. Standing his ground, with words that had failed him, Danny waited.

"I told my brother about you. Everything." A sad smile trembled on her lips as Lindsay thought about Noah and Evan still in Montana.

Blue eyes darted around for a moment, contemplating that thought. "So, should I be expecting someone showing up at my doorstep with a shot gun?" Danny tried to inject some humor into the heavy air.

Her hair swished as shook her head. "No, although Noah did offer to come here and beat you up," Lindsay's voice had a tinge of amusement that quickly turned serious. "He also gave me some advice. He's the reason I even have the courage to talk to you - " Danny gave an inner sigh of relief and sent a mental thank-you to Lindsay's brother, even if he still came to New York to knock his brains around. "He told me that grief made people do crazy things, that's something I know about, and I remember what you said, even though I wasn't very rational at the time - I was a mess, still am, but seeing things a bit clearer now.

"He said that I needed to talk to you, for however long it took. To be open and honest. And so that's what I'm going to do." Lindsay looked at him, hanging onto her every word and saw that she wasn't the only one going through turmoil. She wondered briefly, between them, how many full nights of sleep they had. "We've both made mistakes. But...I care about you Danny, a lot. My heart does funny things when I look at you, when I'm with you, when...when you touch me." A smidgen of warmth lurked beneath the sadness in her eyes and her shoulders sagged. "But do I want to be with you still? That depends I guess."

His breath held. "On what?"

She shrugged, staring at her carpet. Her voice stayed quiet as she laid everything out, knowing that there was a chance that this could back-fire on her. "On how far you want to commit to this. You know me Danny, I don't do things half-assed. If I say yes...to giving this thing between us a second chance, then you have to know that I'm going to be completely open with you; no more shutting you out." Lindsay ran a shaky hand through her hair and her voice trembled, halting in between words, but needing to get this out. "And that scares me, more than you could possibly imagine; it means I'm vulnerable to you. I don't...I don't like doing that. I can't - can't protect myself. The pain is ten times worse if I don't. You've already hurt me once Danny, I don't know if I can take it a second time. I felt like I was dying. We've already messed things up pretty badly between us, first it was me and then it was you. We both have a problem with wanting to take care of things ourselves to the point of shutting everyone else out...and that's gotta stop." She bit her lip and stared at Danny with glistening brown eyes. "Can you do that Danny?" She searched his eyes. "I mean, really do that?"

Understanding what she was asking and realizing that this was it, Danny, without even needing to think about it for long, he'd had all the time to think about it already, nodded."If it means another chance with you, I'll do it." His soft voice caressed her. It was the voice she heard when they were alone; the one he used to show her that she was the sole focus in his world. It'd been so long since she heard it. "We'll lean on each other and take things slow then. No more 'I' or 'you', but 'us', huh?" Looking at Lindsay standing in front of him, after wishing so many damn times in the past week to be able to see her, talk to her, made him realize that she may be his only chance at feeling this way ever again. His penchant for wanting to suffer and deal alone almost drove her away, leaving him standing alone. Did he want to go back to the life he lived before her? Not while Lindsay was there, showing him that it was possible to get more out of this life than he had been living with. "Let's make a deal then. If you give me your heart to protect, I'll give you mine to do the same. Deal?"

Taking a deep breath that seemed almost twice her size, Lindsay nodded. "Deal."

Still, she made no move towards him. This whole conversation made Lindsay feel so exposed, laid bare and she dearly hoped that they weren't just saying words for the sake of getting back together, without meaning anything. Her eyes roamed his face, realizing just how she missed him. That handsome face shadowed when angry, muscled jaw clenched when determined, sensual mouth turned down in a frown or curved into a slow smile, his blue eyes alight with teasing or darkened with desire. Right now, he looked hopeful, beseeching. It was an expression she rarely saw on him. "Are you sure about this, Danny? I don't want you just saying these things because you missed me. I...I've missed you too, but I'm serious about what I said. I'm not...I couldn't handle it if, two months from now, something happens and you start shutting me out again. I can't. Because god knows how much I need someone right now and you have no idea how much I want that person to be you."

Danny stepped toward her, the look on his face completely earnest. "You have me Linds, you do, I swear." He meant every word he said.

Their eyes never broke contact, even when she took a tiny hesitant step toward him, trembling.

Danny's response was immediate and in a flash, his arms were wound tightly around her, his face buried in her hair.

Longingly, her mouth sought his, pressing a soft kiss against his lips.

Danny's heart stilled at a sensation he thought he'd never feel again before responding, taking over and nibbling on her bottom lip, seeking entrance. Her lips parted and he deepened the kiss. Mindful of any other injuries Lindsay had sustained, Danny's hands roamed gently, but persistently over her back, down her sides, fingers plowing into her silky curls as he cupped the back of her head, all the while as his tongue caressed hers.

God, yes...

Breaking the kiss to greedily gulp some air, Danny trailed his lips across her jawline; planting hot kisses down her throat, trying to show her how much he had missed her, at work, in New York, in his life. Remembering their past love-making, Danny's lips sought out one of his favorite spots, the soft skin just below Lindsay's ear and his almost-frantically moving hands tightened their hold on her waist as Lindsay let out a breathy whimper at the feel of his tongue sampling the taste of her skin.

"Danny..." Lindsay moaned out his name, already reeling from his touch. Her own hands massaged his chest through his shirt while her eyes fluttered at his heady scent. He didn't wear cologne, just regular soap and shampoo intimately mixed with a smell that was uniquely Danny Messer. She had missed him so much.

Her neck was a bountiful plain waiting to be worshiped. Danny's lips roved, almost frantically, not wanting to miss a single spot. He made his way back to her mouth and attacked her lips, relishing in Lindsay's moan and basking in a familiar taste that he had been far too long without. His tongue traced her lips, seeking permission and the second her mouth parted, his tongue darted in to duel with hers. Heavy breathing, contented moans, and the sound of clothes rustling as hands wandered flowed through the apartment as the two lost themselves. It wasn't simply that they had missed their intimate contact, but it was more. Danny both poured his regret and sought forgiveness for his transgression into the kiss while lending Lindsay strength to bear through everything she had been through and Lindsay greedily taking his strength while seeking shelter in his warm embrace from the horrors she had faced and still felt.

Feeling something splash on his shirt, Danny pulled back in alarm and saw silent tears dripping down her cheeks. It took a moment for him to understand that he hadn't hurt her in their frantic movements, but that she was crying at the pain she was feeling inside and at the relief that something else in her life hadn't been ruined. This time, Danny did not just give into the urge to brush her tears away, instead opting to kiss them away and in between, whispering words of comfort into her skin. She held onto him throughout it all, needing it, craving it to keep her from crashing.

Danny held her quietly until with utmost regret, he couldn't hold back the yawn that almost cracked his jaw. All the energy that had surged through his body suddenly left him, leaving him exhausted, but happy for the first time in weeks. He ran his hands down her arms, reluctant to let her go, and looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry; I just got off a double-shift and it's late. I better go." _Ask me to stay, if only to keep you company._

Lindsay looked just as reluctant to let him leave. "Why don't you just crash here? You're already falling asleep on your feet, Danny. Please."

He looked at her and instantly recognized the scared look in her eyes. Scared of what she might see in her dreams that night and Danny sought to soothe her, any way he could. She was in a hard place at the moment and needed him to be there for her. And he would be. As long as she let him, he would be there.

Leaving his jacket where it was, he toed off his shoes. "I'll just crash on the couch then." Making a move to the hallway, he was headed for the tiny linen closet where he knew she kept extra blankets when a small tug on his shirt stopped him. Turning, he saw Lindsay hesitantly biting her lower lip and unable to help it, his blue eyes darkened slightly.

"Cou-could you stay with me? I mean, we've already shared beds and..." There was a hint of pleading in her eyes, though she kept them averted. "It's just...I know I'll feel better if you were there." _Holding me, keeping the nightmares at bay, keeping me safe_.

Danny stopped her fidgeting by gathering her up in his arms, causing her to relax instantly. "Of course." He tightened his hold on her for a long minute, rubbing his face in her hair as much to soothe her as it was to reassure him that he was indeed here, with her. Kissing her temple, Danny basked in the feel of her own arms gripping his waist, a tiny peck on his chest, and unable to help herself, a small nuzzle. His presence there was a sorely needed comforting balm on her wracked self.

Pulling back, Lindsay took his hand and began leading him to the bedroom. "Thank you." The words were said very quietly.

Squeezing her hand, Danny murmured, "Don't thank me for something I'd willingly do, Lindsay. Just tell me what side of the bed you want." He injected a teasing note into his voice and Lindsay rewarded him a small, very small smile. But, that was okay. If he did this right, he'd have years to get that smile back to the brilliance that endeared her to everyone around her, and that had captivated him in the first place.

The bedroom door closed and for the rest of the night, that one night, Lindsay slept soundly in Danny's arms, protected from her nightmares.

* * *

It had been a long day and Mac swallowed some more pills as the pain in his side once again reminded him that he had indeed been shot less than a week ago. He filed the last of the paperwork that he had finished that day and was in complete agreement with the rest of his team that it sucked. Grabbing his jacket, he made to turn off the light when his phone rang. Heaving a sigh, Mac answered it, hoping that whoever it was wasn't interested in a long conversation.

"Taylor."

"Mac." It was a single word, but caused him to raise his eyebrows at the familiar accent. His mind flooded with disbelief.

"Peyton?"

* * *

Chelsea Thompson sang loudly along with the radio as she drove while she checked the grocery list in her hand. Ew, broccoli. She shook her head. Honestly, if mom couldn't get her to eat it when she was younger, what made her think that she'd eat it now. Chelsea sighed as she checked the rest of the list, glancing up occasionally to look at road. While it wasn't a back-road, it wasn't widely populated. Kids were always trying to street-race on it, like stupid Tony Schater, constantly showing off for the girls at school. It was pathetic really, no matter how cute he was.

Glancing up at the road again, Chelsea let out a scream and slammed hard on the brakes. The seatbelt yanked hard enough against her chest that it was a sure thing that a bruise would be left and her heart pounded.

"Oh my god," she breathed. Chelsea looked out the windshield and saw that it was indeed a body lying halfway on the road. Unbuckling her seatbelt, Chelsea jumped out of the car and rushed to the man's side where she heard him barely whispering for help.

"It's okay sir, everything will be fine." She dug into her pocket. "I'm going to call for an ambulance. You'll be just fine, just stay with me."

"That's alright." A hand reached out and grabbed her tightly by the throat. Chelsea dropped the cell phone as the man stood up. "All I really need is your car." Dakin smiled as he shot the girl.

Throwing the girl onto the grassy ditch beside the road, Dakin pilfered her purse and strolled, whistling, to the waiting car.

* * *

A/N: How was that? Good? Bad?

* * *


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot.

A/N: Lol! I've never seen so many angry/independent Lindsay fics! I was tempted to write one too, but so many writers have already posted so many good ones, I couldn't possibly compete. So yes, while I am disheartened at what the writers did for the past episode, I am quite content to stay in the happy universe I've created for D/L in this fic! You may have to drag me out.

This is the end for this fic and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Thanks!

* * *

After years of service and working on this job, Mac snapped wide awake in his bed at home at the sound of his house phone ringing. It was unlikely that the caller was from work and after last night, he doubted it was Peyton again. That she had called was a surprise and a shock, but he had gotten over it as she explained that Hawkes still kept in touch and had told her what happened. The two had talked, a little awkwardly at first and they had kept well away from the topic of their break-up, sticking strictly the team and other safe topics happening in their individual lives. With the limited topics they had, the two managed to stay on the phone for over an hour.

The phone rang again and Mac turned on the side-lamp, picking up the phone in the same motion. "Taylor." His brain perked up as he heard, or rather didn't hear, a familiar sound. Silence. A dial-tone. Mac looked at the caller display, knowing what he would see. 333.

* * *

Letting out a husky groan, Danny awoke slowly to the smell of coffee. Squinting his eyes, he flopped onto his back, slightly disoriented at the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. Slowly, the events of the last night came back to him and he sat up to glance sleepily around the room. The sheets were cold on the other side and Danny ran a hand through his bed-hair.

Yawning, he gave one last stretch, got out of bed and snagged his jeans from floor. Putting them on, he went in search of Montana and coffee. Danny padded silently down the hallway towards the kitchen where he halted at the sight of Lindsay sitting morosely on a kitchen stool, staring at a family photo in her hand.

He watched, concern shining in his eyes, as tears slipped from beneath her lowered lids, landing on the glass. Shuffling quietly over to her, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind.

"I'm sorry," Danny whispered quietly into her newly-washed hair, smelling of peaches and vanilla. His nose nuzzled the silky strands, inhaling the scent and tightened his arms around her body.

It was a quiet cry this bright morning and Danny held her tightly to his chest throughout, murmuring and cooing comforting words into her hair.

"You know, I don't think Mac would begrudge you staying home today," he ventured softly, running a hand through her hair.

Shaking her head, Lindsay wiped her tears away. "Staying here alone with my thoughts is worse." She took a calming breath.

He kissed her gently on the forehead before giving into her tug on his jeans and giving her a sound kiss on the lips. "I'll be right beside you every chance I get." He pulled her up from the stool and fiercely hugged her. "How about tonight I make you dinner? I can cook a few things that'll wow you." He smiled comfortingly at her.

"That sounds nice." She gave his bare chest a butterfly kiss. "Why don't you take a shower and I'll make us breakfast, sound good?"

Danny nodded, hesitant to leave her alone. The sadness hadn't wavered from her face. "I'll only be a bit."

Watching him disappear back down the hallway, her attention re-focused on the picture of her family. Lindsay traced the faces of her parents, feeling the pang of pain. Having Danny back in her life brought a wonderful feeling, but she would give almost anything to have her parents alive and safe.

"I love you, mom, dad." She lovingly placed the picture frame on her kitchen counter, giving it a sad smile before beginning to work on breakfast. Today marked the beginning of a slow heal.

After a quiet breakfast, the two shrugged on their coats, getting ready to face another day. Waiting patiently for his girlfriend to lock her apartment door, a protective feeling rose within Danny as he took in her quiet sorrow.

"You ready?" Reaching out, Danny looked back at her.

Lindsay took the hand that he held out to her, clutching it tightly. "Yes."

--

Throughout the day, the two had managed to stay close to one another. Danny's hovering behavior catching the ever-aware eye of Mac Taylor, who assigned Lindsay to help with his case. At any other time, the ferociously independent Lindsay would have quickly become irritated with his lingering, but today, she welcomed it. Clung to it to keep her steady, grounded.

Seeing Stella was also a comfort. The older woman holding the place of 'big sister' in Lindsay's life; she was also relieved Stella didn't press her. It was a tribute to the entire close-knit team that no one else in the lab knew the ordeal Lindsay had gone through. She was spared from any sympathetic looks or whispers behind the back.

The day passed normally as Lindsay found slight comfort immersing herself in her job, but mostly it was due to the man that could be found always in her vicinity. He lent her silent strength and support, made sure she ate, and kept her spirits up with the teasing banter she so enjoyed between them.

It was nearing the end of the day when Danny looked up and then sighed. "Brace yourself," he said quietly as he stood beside Lindsay at the evidence table where she was helping him sort through dozens of fingerprints that he had collected from his latest case.

Lindsay looked up questioningly. "What?" She followed the direction of his chin jerk and saw Hawkes accompanied by Flack heading their way. "Oh." Danny briefly laid a hand over one of hers that was lying on the table.

As if his stature wasn't enough, Flack announced his presence with arms spread in the air. "Lindsay!" In complete opposite and part of his personality, Hawkes looked warmly at her. Flack moved to hug her when she stepped back and held out a hand. "Bullet graze to the arm," she gestured. "It still hurts a bit. But I'm still glad to see you guys." Perhaps it was her soft voice or the look in her eyes, but both Flack and Hawkes gave her comforting smiles and Flack changed his hug to a tiny peck on her cheek, grinning cheekily at Danny.

"We've missed you, Linds," Hawkes said, meaning it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could feel Flack's curiosity radiating off him and stifled the urge to laugh. But from what he could tell, neither Lindsay nor Danny were talking.

Recognizing this, Flack clapped his hands. "Hey, the day's almost over, ours at least anyway; how about we all go out for a drink?"

Lindsay gave her exuberant friend a meek smile. "Can't. Danny's coming over to cook me dinner." She looked up as the man himself moved closer until their sides were touching and he placed a warm hand on the small of her back.

Hawkes had a look of amusement on his face while Flack laughed loudly. "Danny? Cook? Be careful Linds, you might get food poisoning."

"This coming from the man who sometimes comes over to raid my fridge," Danny snorted, helping Lindsay out of her lab coat seeing from the clock that they were almost done for the day. His hands trailed softly over her arms as he took the coat off, ignoring the looks from his friends and enjoying the slight blush on Lindsay's face. He hung the coat as well as his own and returned to his previous position. "We should start heading out." He looked at the two men. "We'll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?"

Lindsay gave a soft goodbye as Danny led her out, towards the locker room, with his hand never leaving her back. Hawkes and Flack watched as the two disappeared, their heads bent together, and showing that their relationship was well on its way to being stronger than ever.

--

"So what do you want to watch?" Lindsay asked as Danny settled down on the couch beside her. "Shockingly, there isn't a game on tonight."

He draped an arm around her and pulled her close, nuzzling her neck. "I don't really care," Danny mumbled against her soft skin, inhaling her scent. "I'm just glad that I'm here with you." He wrapped his other arm around her waist. Ordinarily not a touchy-feely kind of guy, Danny threw his old rules out the window when it came to Lindsay. He really was just glad that she had come back from Montana, that she was still working at the lab, that she had given them a second chance, but most importantly, that she still showed a semblance of that spark that made him fall for her. There was still hope. Danny wasn't going to press her to jump into bed anytime soon; there was still a lot of things Lindsay needed to work through and he would be there for her, in this new open-and-honest relationship. He would go at her pace.

Lindsay shivered lightly as Danny pressed tiny kisses on her neck, coasting slowly to her collarbone. The tiny hairs of his goatee scraped against her skin and she sighed, sinking into his embrace, feeling relief and protection from the pain in her life. She reached up and caressed his cheek, drawing his attention to her. As her deep brown eyes connected with his sky blues, she beamed a soft brilliant smile that had his heart jumping and a smile lit his face. Leaning her forehead against his, she whispered between their lips, "I'm glad you're here with me too." Her eyes dropped to his lips before closing. "Really glad." Danny took his time reaching her lips; skimming his lips across her cheeks, giving a small peck to her cute button nose before drawing her lips in with his.

Danny felt Lindsay wind her arms around his neck, her nails scraped gently against his scalp, and he couldn't suppress the moan coming from his throat. His Montana felt so good and he had missed her so much.

Breaking apart for air, but not moving apart, they looked at each other softly, saying nothing, but feeling everything. Danny drew her lips back to his. They had definitely missed each other.

END

* * *

AN: Any of you notice that he's calling her Montana at the end instead of Lindsay or Linds since this fic started? Just thought I'd point that out.

There is a sequel in the works, coming sooner than you think that tie up some of the loose ends I've left dangling in this one. I already have it all planned and will definitely have more romance than this one, now that Lindsay's back in the city. Future smut? Quite possibly.

Thanks for reading! Thanks for all the reviews! Every time I got one, they gave me warm fuzzies (what writer doesn't get them? :)). So, thanks, thanks, thanks!!


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